Until I changed
by PotatoJerk
Summary: The year is 2163 and Sealand has become a major world power; England is now his personal slave. America is worried about him. WARNING: RAPIST!Sealand, Human names used, Welsh with English translation, frequent character switching to be expected
1. The Incident Before I changed

_**~I spent my time watching my surroundings, unaware that it was not the future I was running toward but the past I refused to forget.**_

At least until I found my way again.

_**~I felt as if I was being strung along and jerked from end to end, smashed to bits and glued together again.**_

Until I decided I would no longer be broken.

_**~I couldn't see; I was blind to the friends I had even though they were right in front of me.**_

I wasn't looking hard enough.

_**~I found that my world was without color; naught but black and white.**_

But I found the shades of gray over time.

_**~My suffering was endless.**_

Until it ended.

Arthur Kirkland,

London, England

June 5th 2163

"Arthur, get your ass in here!" shouted a voice.

I cringed and walked into the den with a fearful expression on the inside of my face. As expected it was... him. The bane of my existence. My younger brother, Peter. I felt like I was going to die; he was working me hard. "You called, sir?"

"I want you to go and get Alfred for lunch; he's here visiting, you know. It's a pity you can't see him," Peter smiled cruelly. "You're too busy for your favorite son, right now."

I nodded, _**Of course; I'm too busy for him.**_

"Well, go on and send him to a nice restaurant... is the pub-and-go nice?"

"I wouldn't know," I muttered icily, "I don't go there anymore."

"Well then, send him to someplace he'll like."

"...I don't know what he even likes anymore..." I whispered.

"Yes, that's right. You've been too busy to see him for a long time. Do you want me to tell you what he likes?"

"Yes, Peter."

"He likes fast food, video games, scary movies, and he likes you. God only knows why; you've been a total horses' ass since before I was even born." Peter grinned coldly. "I might just tell him to screw off; you're hardly worth the effort."

I had to fight to keep from hitting him; he had powerful friends. I cowered as he crossed the room and slapped me across the face. He beat me around the face until I was covered in dull red blood and vivid purple bruises. He brought his foot down on my ribs, and I coughed as he made contact. I felt my throat get dry as the same blood the was just beneath the surface of my face came out of my mouth. Peter was going to kill me one of these days, but I could do nothing about it. They say that boys will be boys, but I have no time to think on that.

Peter had been such a good boy when he was younger (though he did threaten to kill me more than once). Almost 200 years ago that was.

He spat in my direction and told me to get up. He said he was waiting for me to go and get Alfred. Said he would kill me if I didn't leave now.

I left. I walked down the hallway to the guest room and knocked on the door. "Alfred, Peter wants you to come out. He wants you to go and meet him in the den."

_**It's all about Peter**_, I thought.

There was a low rustling and I stood to one side of the door, brushing my hair into my face to cover the bruises.

The door opened, "Hey, Arthu- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE?"

"Huh?"

"It's covered in bruises! Are you... BLEEDING?"

"No," I lied.

The young man in front of me towered over me and his face expressed concern. I hated that his innocent blue eyes made him look like he cared. It was irritating as hell for him to care about me when I was so damn worthless. I wasn't worth a trip to the hospital (I treated my own wounds), I wasn't worth a trip to the grocery store (I was starving most of the time); I wasn't worth anything, I was worthless. He sighed and I saw tears in his eyes. "Arthur, don't lie to me."

"I am bleeding but it's nothing serious."

"Blood is always serious!"

"I got mauled by a cat," I said flatly.

"You Liar! Don't Lie! Peter did it to you, didn't he? Didn't he?"

"No. It's my fault, I tried to move the cat without treats and got my whole damn face scratched off."

Alfred raised a single eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Al gave me one last concerned glance and ran down the hall. I walked slowly in the opposite direction, and arrive at a door with a union jack ripped in half and singed on the edge stapled to the door. I didn't know at the time but what Peter was doing could be classified as abuse; I didn't know that yet.

My room was crap. Punk Rock, Harry Potter, Owls, Cats, and union jacks. The walls were also spattered with blood, dried blood from the last few times Peter had decided to punish me. Some people thought that Peter thought it was a game, he did not; he knew better than I did that this was not a game. Not At All.

He knew that I couldn't protect myself and he exploited that. He hurt me just to be hurting me. He just wanted to prove that he could.

I rubbed my eyes and was not surprised to feel tears on my fingers, I was, however, surprised to feel that rather than a small stream of tears, on my cheeks were a pair of rivers. I rubbed my eyes some more and sat on my bed, picking up a worn plush dove and hugging it to my chest. I lay back and stared at the ceiling, tears still streaming down my face. I think I nodded off for a while because I was suddenly awakened by a loud shout.

"Wake up!" The voice yelled, practically a bark.

I jerked upright and saw Peter's silhouette in the doorway. I stuttered, "I d-didn't mean to fall asleep, Sir."

"Oh, I know." Peter said, his voice deceptively calming. "I thought you should know, Alfred went home. He asked about you, asked if you were sick, asked if you had hurt yourself, asked why you were covered in bruises; I actually was impressed by the story. Did you really tell him that you'd been mauled by a cat?"

I nodded, hesitant to respond.

"I had no idea that you had it in you to lie so blatantly to your favorite son." He laughed darkly. "You must be punished for falling asleep. What would be a fitting punishment...?" He wondered.

"I don't know, sir..."

"...I want you to close your eyes and roll over."

I did so and Peter hit me across the back of the head with something. I felt him rip my clothes off but I couldn't move, my head hurt so bad that I couldn't focus on anything. He did something and I felt tears in my eyes even through my lashes. My eyes flew open and I could tell that I was moving slightly, forward and back. I coughed but it sounded like a sob. Peter slapped me across the face.

"Shut up, you butain... you are mine. You live or die by my hand. No one is going to save you; you are stuck here with me and you are not getting away. Rwy'n casáu chi ond rydych yn unig mor boeth… Gallaf weld pam yr Amerig caru chi gymaint… ond bydd yr hyn y mae'n meddwl pan fyddaf yn dweud wrtho...? (I hate you but you're just so hot... I can see why america loves you so much... but what will he think when I tell him...?)"

Peter laughed softly.

"Fy na fyddai, fod â chywilydd... (My, wouldn't he be embarrassed...)"

I sobbed again and Peter slapped me harder.

"Cau i fyny a gadewch i mi ddweud wrthych beth fyddai Alfred ei wneud os bydd yn dod o hyd i... (Shut up and let me tell you what Alfred would do if he found out...)" Peter was talking softly but I could feel him grinding against me. "Byddai'n syrthio allan o gariad gyda chi; Byddai'n cael ei gywilydd i erioed wedi syrthio mewn cariad â'r cyfryw butain ddiwerth… dyna beth byddai'n meddwl eich bod yn; butain ddiwerth gwaedlyd. (He would fall out of love with you; He would be ashamed to have ever fallen in love with such a worthless whore... that's what he would think you are; a bloody worthless whore.)"

I accidentally sobbed; shocked, I closed my eyes and waited for Peter to hit me again.

"Mmm... Rwy'n casáu eich perfedd Lloegr, ond mae'n rhaid imi ddweud ei fod yn hwyl... ac nid ydynt yn crio, fyddwch butain; 'i jyst yn gwneud i chi edrych yn bod llawer mwy truenus. (Mmm... I hate your guts England, but I must say that it was fun... and don't cry, you whore; it just makes you look that much more pathetic.)"


	2. Outward Readjustment

_**~I knew what was happening but I did nothing to change it. The proof was right there in front of me.**_

My love was in trouble but I didn't notice.

_**~I was an idiot. I can't believe I didn't see it. I SHOULD HAVE NOTICED.**_

But he wouldn't have told me anyway...

_**~Peter tricked me. It wasn't my fault; it was his fault. I didn't do anything to cause this.**_

But I should have seen it.

_**~He was hiding it from me.**_

I still should have seen it.

_**~He didn't trust me enough to tell me even though I trust him more than anyone.**_

But he didn't tell anyone.

Alfred F. Jones

Montreal, Quebec

October 23, 2163

I spotted England just before the first world meeting, but at first I wasn't sure it was him. He looked like death; dark circles under his eyes, his skin was even more pale than it usually was, his hair was dull, even his eyes were dull. He didn't notice me at all and he sat on the edge of his chair, as far away from Sealand as possible. I was a little worried about how he'd been covered in bruises and bleeding (BLEEDING!) the last time I'd seen him.

I noticed that Germany was staring at him also, then I remembered that he and England had been an item a few decades back. That was a bad time for me. Germany suddenly stood up, walked around the meeting table and tapped me on the shoulder, "Kommen Sie. Ich habe einige Fragen an Sie, was ist los mit unserem lieben England... (Come along. I have some questions for you about what's wrong with our dear England...)" He said, his eyes commanding attention.

I sighed, "Whatever-," I began, then I stopped. _**American teenagers are **__**affecting me again, **_I thought. I grinned, "Natürlich, was Unternehmen haben Sie mit der Hero, und was wollen Sie wissen? (Of course, what business do you have with the Hero, and what do you need to know?)" I said.

Germany took me by the hand and led me into the hallway. Once we were away from prying eyes he told me about what he had noticed. He told me about what he'd heard from Russia (who had been spying on England).

"Ivan has been vatching Peter from outside the vindow and he told me something peculiar... He told me- Ivan erzählte mir, dass er Peter Vergewaltigung Arthur sah...(Ivan told me that he saw Peter rape Arthur ... )"

I felt my eyes widen, and my voice came out as a low growl, "He did what?"

"Ich weiß, das ist was ich sagte zu. Offenbar vergewaltigt Peter Arthur ihm zeigen, wie viel leistungsfähiger er ist, zu kaufen. Ich denke, dass Peter ihm brach, schmerzte ihn über jemandes Fähigkeiten zu beheben. (I know, that's what I said. Apparently Peter raped Arthur to show him how much more powerful he is, now. I think that Peter broke him, hurt him behind anyone's capabilities to fix.)"

"Broke him..." I asked, my eyes wide.

"Er ist Gewicht zu verlieren schneller als Sie es jemals tat. Er fiel vor diesem Morgen, und wenn ich half ihm sah er aus wie er über sich zu übergeben wurde. Seine Hände waren so kalt, und wenn er mir wegschieben wollte, schiebt seinen schwach waren... (He's losing weight faster than you ever did. He fell down outside this morning and when I helped him up he looked like he was about to vomit. His hands were so cold, and when he tried to push me away, his shoves were weak...)"

I felt my heart sink, "What did he say...?"

"Als ich ihm geholfen bis er 'Oh, god, no...' gesagt und dann, als er zu Fuß entfernt, hörte ich ihn sagen 'I'm okay, I'm okay, It's not Peter, and that means that I'm okay.' (When I helped him up, he said 'Oh god, no' and then as he was walking away, I heard him say 'I'm okay, I'm Okay, It's not peter, and that means that I'm okay.')"

"...I was right, it was Peter."

"Vhat was Peter?" Germany asked, "Alfred, vhat are you not telling me?"

"Sealand... Peter has been abusing Arthur. That's the reason that he was covered in bruises, that's the reason he was scared of you; he wasn't scared of you, he was scared of your blond hair. That's the reason that he's scared of Peter. If Seala- Peter really raped Arthur, then we need to get him back. He's lost."

"Alfred... if he needs someone to get him back, then ve can't do anything."

"WHAT?" I shouted, shocked.

"If he needs someone to get him back, then ve can't do anything because he's not in love with either of us; at least not anymore." Germany sighed and continued, "Besides, if it is as you say and he vas afraid of my blond hair, then, by the same token, he vould most likely be afraid of blue eyes as well. In case you hadn't noticed, ve both have blonde hair and blue eyes."

"Then we may need a miracle, and, if we're gonna borrow a miracle, we need to do it soon."

"How do you borrow a miracle?"

"From Finland, of course!"

"That's not vhat I meant, Dumm Kopf."

"You go to Finland, and ask Tino if you can borrow a miracle; Whether you get one, however, is dependent on whether you're pure of heart or not, though, these days, no one is pure so Tino changed it so that if what you'll use the miracle on is unselfish, you can have one for 14€ and some change."

"Are you serious?" Germany's eyebrow twitched. "That's all it takes to get a miracle?"

"Yeah."

"Mein gott..." Germany muttered, "Let's go and talk to Tino then..."


	3. The First World Meeting

**Arthur Kirkland**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 23, 2163**

I couldn't keep my eyes open at the meeting. I was so tired... I just wanted to sleep. I put my head on the table in front of me and closed my eyes, hoping to get a few minutes of rest. Just a few.

I must've dozed off because the next thing I remembered was that I woke up in my Hotel room. For a long time, I just lay still in the bed, feeling too weak to move and too tired to try. I was still wearing the khaki suit that I had worn to the meeting, but my tie was missing, as were my shoes.

I held my hand up in front of my face and stared at it; it was slim with long fingers, delicate fingers, smooth milk pale skin. It was too thin; I was too thin. Part of me, the part that worked to save others and keep people alive even when they've almost killed themselves, told me that I was starving to death. It was a small part but it still caught my attention.

_**Silly Arthur, **_I thought, smiling slightly, _**you can't die of neglect or that time at sea would've had you dead long before Alfred came around...**_

I realized that I had been talking to myself, and I made another startling discovery; I actually wanted to die.

I wanted to die... I knew that there was no way in hell that I could die that way, but I wanted to die... to starve. If only to hurt them... Alfred, Matthew, François, all of them... everyone that I had ever loved with the exception of Joan and Lizzie... who had both died long before, anyway, and wouldn't be hurt if I died.

I wanted to hurt those people that I'd once loved... they had known exactly what he was going to do; I warned them that he would. They knew that once he lost his temper I wouldn't be able to keep him calm. They may have sent him to jail for 200 years but they had no idea how trusting humans could be; he would be out within a week. He even called me before the humans gave him parole (I'll bet that they thought he was talking to a little girlfriend when he called, he was calling me butain, which means whore by the way, and from what I recall there were only germans who didn't understand the world or Americans who didn't care to).

There would be no punishment; no justice. there was no reasoning with these people after they got the idea that he was totally innocent. If it had gone my way, Alfred would be the one guarding him and ludwig would help. Even Alfred wasn't dumb enough to just let him go.


	4. Afterwards

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 23, 2163**

He was so sound asleep at the end of the meeting that I had to carry him up to his room. He was out cold; I doubt that he would've woken up if I'd tossed him out of his window into the snowbank outside. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping but I knew that at a specific time every night he has the same dream. Even when he doesn't remember what he dreamed about, he still always has that dream. He has horrible nightmares that plague every moment of his rest, and sometimes they even affect his emotions and reactions when he's awake.

As I carried him up the stairs to the third floor where both his room and mine were, I felt a faint tingle in the back of my mind.

"_**You shouldn't act like you know what's wrong...**_" said a voice.

"_**You don't really love him...**_" said another voice.

"_**You pretend to know why he cries-**_" began the first voice.

"_**when your theories couldn't be further from the truth...**_" a third voice finished.

"_**You never noticed, did you?**_" The first voice asked.

"_**How he was trying so hard to reach out and love you, or at least be friends with you...?**_" The second voice pondered.

"_**Or how he would always have some excuse as to why he was covered in bruises...?**_" The third voice, whispered.

"_**He can't hear us anymore... you always believed enough for you to be able to hear us, but he can't even hear us, let alone see us... He stopped believing in us long ago...**_" the three voices chorused.

I wondered who the voices belonged to and searched Arthur's pockets for his room key. Unlocking the door, I carried him in and I was suddenly struck with a sense that someone was watching me. I froze for a moment, then continued on, laying England on his bed; I had no reason to be afraid.

I went through the connecting door and the moment I got into my room, I get a splitting headache.

"_**Me has abandonado... ¿por qué hacer eso...?" **_A voice said, low and mournful like the sound of wolf song. It hurt me, the sound of the voice.

I felt a pain in my chest, "Only because I had to."

"_**...pero no tenía por qué... que **__**eligió**__** a...**_" the voice said, rumbling like a growl.

"I did have to... I remember how it used to be, Mother and Matthew and Me, all together. We grew maize and we helped the other people... but mother died and I couldn't stay in her house anymore... Matthew went north to go and settle down there but I just roamed..."

"...que te amaba... queremos que usted esté allí..."

"You might've but the others... they didn't like me; I didn't look like them, so they hated me..."

"...Estás loco rubio... te queremos... nadie puede decir que no... incluso si su cabello es rubio, sus ojos son azules y su piel no es tan oscura como la nuestra... que aún te amo..."

"Maybe so, but I can't reconnect with that world..."

The headache got worse, and My vision started to blur. I fell to the ground face first, my foot smacking the still open door and slamming it as I hit the ground.

~A/N- The first three voices are Arthur's fairies (or at least the ones that follow him around these days) and Arthur can't see them anymore because he no longer believes that they are real. Alfred can hear them (now) because he believes that fairies _might _exist; he's like an agnostic person (with fairies rather than some form of god). The fourth voice is a surprise that pertains to Alfred's past and his mother (but you will learn about that later).  
Also: please vote on my poll so that I can mention who sealands allies are!


	5. The Second World Meeting

**Arthur Kirkland**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 26, 2163**

I was rapidly losing my grip on sanity, but I made an effort to appear normal/sane. I felt extremely hyper, I think that the phrase Alfred would use is 'I felt Wired'. Still, I'm not Alfred; I don't drink coffee, I drink tea. I shouldn't feel hyper...

"England... is something wrong...?" Ludwig asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, just a bit distracted..." I said, absentmindedly. I felt like I should leave. I got an excellent idea at that moment, and said, "em... I've been feeling a little ill as of recently..."

"Really...? You shouldn't be here if you're sick..." he said. He smiled at me, "vhy don't you go back to your room...?"

"I suppose I will..." I said. "thank you, Ludwig..."

I stood up and left the meeting room, taking off down the hall and up the stairs to my room. It was just the right size for me, just enough for one person; Matthew was so much nicer than Alfred.

I considered waiting until the meeting was over and then watching the young ones while the other nations went out drinking, but then I realized that I wanted to be alone and I had no interest in weaving unending tales of adventure for the 4 children. Robert would be 7, 70 in human years, Robin would be 5, 50 in human years, Alieu was not so young anymore (20), 200 in human years, Yoh wasn't either (20), 200 in human years... The youngest of Alfred kids, Yoh and Alieu, but still not as old as me... I was still the oldest except for Spain.

Gaul had died, germania, Skandia, and countless others, including Rome; I was the only one in europe who was a country when Rome conquered the world...

I shook my head to clear my mind of the thoughts about Rome, It was over; he was dead.

I could hear a voice in the next room over, "I still don't see why I have to be here," said the voice. "Honestly, why do I have to be here?"

"You don't; I said that I had to babysit Robert and Robin-schön, and you offered to come," said another voice. "Besides, Ludva did ask you to come; he asked me."

"Oh, yeah... I guess I forgot about Robertino..."

"Annnnnnd, that is why Ludva didn't let venetian convince him that you would be a good babysitter..."

I smiled slightly; everyone loved my children... My children didn't even know who I was... but I loved them anyway.

I sighed, "Of all the times to lose my mind, I had to lose it, now? When my kids don't even know who I am...?"

_**My kids... that's my reason for staying alive... **_I thought, scratching the back of my neck, _**a pretty weak reason, seeing as I haven't seen either of them in 40 years...**_

I went into the bathroom and stared at my reflection, trying to find the person I used to be; Great Britain, King Arthur Pendragon, even feeble little Britannia... Anything that was me.

All I could see was him... Peter... when I looked in the Mirror He was all that I saw... I couldn't see myself anymore... only him.

I felt my eyes fill with tears, "I'm not even there anymore," I choked out, "He's destroyed all that I am..."

_**I'm not even there...**_


	6. Looking for Robert

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 26, 2163**

I could hear him taking a shower, and I wondered If I should go through his room to go and see my little cousins or if I should go and knock on their door and risk getting smacked by Germany.

"...if I just go through his room I won't get smacked and he's in the shower so he won't be able to yell at me..." a thought suddenly occured to me, "but if he's in the shower, he's... naked."

My whole face went red and I had to smack my head against the wall to refocus.

I sighed and opened the connecting door, walking silently across the carpet and into England's room.

I heard the strangest voice, echoing through my mind, "_**Os ydych yn ceisio twyllo ni, byddwch yn ad-dalu o fath arall... Os ydych yn ceisio sbïo ar atom, fyddwch chi ddim yn hoffi hyn yr ydych yn dod o hyd i... Before you join our fairy circle, there is something you must know; if you come and join us here, you won't see fit to go...**_"

It sounded almost like a woman's voice...

"_**Os ydych yn ceisio twyllo ni, byddwch yn ad-dalu o fath arall... Os ydych yn ceisio sbïo ar atom, fyddwch chi ddim yn hoffi hyn yr ydych yn dod o hyd i... We control the winds of fate, and twist the threads of time, but the way we do these things is truly not a crime...**_"

...the same phrase repeated, '_**Os ydych yn ceisio twyllo ni, byddwch yn ad-dalu o fath arall... Os ydych yn ceisio sbïo ar atom, fyddwch chi ddim yn hoffi hyn yr ydych yn dod o hyd i...**_' over and over again...

"_**Os ydych yn ceisio twyllo ni, byddwch yn ad-dalu o fath arall... Os ydych yn ceisio sbïo ar atom, fyddwch chi ddim yn hoffi hyn yr ydych yn dod o hyd i... We attract the mind and body in our magical ring whilst we chant the words of Circe, singing war songs for our King...**_"

I felt lulled and sped up my walk, fighting to stay silent.

"_**Os ydych yn ceisio twyllo ni, byddwch yn ad-dalu o fath arall... Os ydych yn ceisio sbïo ar atom, fyddwch chi ddim yn hoffi hyn yr ydych yn dod o hyd i... We hold you here, stirring and capturing your mind, but if you try to leave us, there'll be nothing left to find...**_"

I opened the door and hurried through, almost slamming the door as I went. I leaned against the door and slid down, freaking out in silence. I waited for a few moments and then tried to find Germany. Instead I found my little cousin, Robin.

"Hi, Robin..." I said, keeping my voice low.

"Hiya, Al," she said, grinning.

She was eating some kind of Potato paste, sausage bits, pita bread, feta cheese mixture, with her sky blue eyes shining. She offered me some but I turned her down, asking, "Where's your Mutti?"

"He left with Big Brother Feliks. Big Brother Antonio is supposed to come and take care of us until Mutti gets back."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighed and then smiled, "Hey, I'll stay with you until Antonio gets here okay?"

"Danke, Al!" She grinned, and I marvelled at how her teeth managed to stay snow white and clean looking when she'd just been eating. She scowled, "Bruder left me here alone to go exploring."

"...I guess we better go find him..."

_**Annnnnnnnnd... now I'm trying to find England's son, of all the lame ass things to happen, why the hell did this happen? I don't particularly care about Robert but if he gets into trouble I'll get killed by Germany and then AGAIN by England!**_

Robin slipped her feet into a pair of black ballet slippers and led me out into the hallway where we would be searching the hotel for the 7 year old Robert.

~A/N- So, here's your first glimpse into Dear England's life; he has 2 kids, Robert and Robin (Ages 70-7 and 50-5). Their 'Mutti' is Germany and they don't know England (their father) since the last time he saw either of them was 40 years earlier (When Robert was about 30-3 and Robin was 10-1). [Did you like the 'Big Brother' thing? Italy does that so I think she got it from him...]


	7. Meanwhile

Arthur Kirkland

Montreal, Quebec

October 26, 2163

I had already long since decided that I needed to stop drinking and, yet... there I was, sitting at a bar drinking Ale as I had been for the last hour. I had promised myself that I wouldn't but... I wanted to forget everything about Peter.

Th place was full of fellow nations; Gilbert, Roderick and Elizabeta in a booth, Ivan, Yao and Kiku sitting at the bar 4 feet away... I was the only one alone.

"...Arthur? What are you doing here?" asked a voice, I looked up and saw Matthew.

"Он не пьет себя глупо, он? (He's not drinking himself stupid, is he?)" said the teen standing behind him, "Мне не нужно видеть взрослого человека плакать, и вы знаете, он всегда делает. Я знаю, что я живу на севере, но я не как хладнокровный, как матушки-России. (I don't need to see a grown man cry and you KNOW he always does. I know that I live up north but I'm not as cold blooded as Mother Russia.)"

"Но вы не Россия, ты Аляске... (But you aren't Russia, You're Alaska...)"

"Да, и? Ты Канаде, но все ошибки, которые вы для Америки, это означает, что вы такой же, как его. (Yeah, and? You're Canada and everyone mistakes you for America, that means that you're the same as him.)"

"Но никто не ошибки, которые вы для России. (But no one mistakes you for Russia.)"

"И тем не менее, Америка по-прежнему называет меня коммунистических сволочь. Забавно, как это работает. (And yet, America still calls me a communist bastard. Funny how that works.)"

"Could you guys please do me a favor and SPEAK BLOODY ENGLISH?" I shouted.

Matthew and the teen behind him stared at me, "Sorry, Arthur..." Matthew said.

"I suppose that I got a little carried away, Da?" the teen said.

"That's an understatement..." Matthew murmured.

"Oh, you wanna go, tough guy? I'll show you how we solve our problems in denali." the teen sneered.

Matthew narrowed his eyes, "I'd rather not. I have enough trouble being mistaken for Al without getting in a fight with a kid."

"I'm no kid!"

"At the moment you're a teen and the only reason you want to fight me is because you're still in your summer personality. You'll be back to the Lieu-lieu we all know, love, and don't want to fight, in a few weeks. And then you won't want to fight anyone."

I sighed, " Why are you guys here?"

"Well, I wanted to take you to have dinner pancakes, but you weren't in your room. I went across the hall to see if Katyusha knew where you were and she said that she'd seen you at the bar. So I came to come and get you but Alieu was outside and he said that he wasn't allowed inside without an adult and Russia just left him outside. I brought him in here to go and get Ivan and so here we are."

I stared at him, "...Matthew, I don't want to leave here. This is the only place I feel like I fit in... here and the pubs in England. It may sound stupid... and I know that I said I was gonna quit but... I can't."

"Arthur... I'm gonna go home... and if you want to talk... and you aren't drunk as a lord... go ahead and come..." Matthew said, smiling slightly, "though, if you come see me while your drunk, I can't promise that you'll wake up in your room."

I laughed, but underneath the polite laughter I was really worried. He wasn't actually suggesting that he would... NO. Not even François would... Actually he might...AUGH! I can't think about this!

"umm... thanks for the offer, Matthew..." I said, going back to my ale.

"Bye, Arthur..."


	8. Robert Found!

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 26, 2163**

"Hey, François, have you seen Robert?" I asked the blond who was standing in the doorway of his room in his underwear.

"Non, I 'ave not seen Robert-douce since zis morning; why? Is 'e missing?" He quirked a single, perfectly plucked eye brow and asked, "Weren't L'Espagne et le Mexique ze babysitters for tonight?"

"Mexico? Are you sure?" I asked.

"Oui, positif. I 'ad to listen to 'im gushing over Espagne, et 'ow they were going to babysit Angleterre's children. Your demi-frère 'as some serious issues, Amérique..."

"Merci beaucoup!" I said as I smiled and left, followed by an increasingly worried Robin.

She was starting to freak out, "What if he got lost? What if he broke his leg? What if he's trapped in the snow outside? What if he can't find his way back? What if he got kidnapped? We have to find him, Alfred; he coud be dying!"

"Don't you worry; we'll find him."

The was a Karaoke war going on, two women singing back and forth in two languages that were NOT english. Robin dragged me down the stairs (strong kid) and into said room. There was Robert, brinking a rootbeer float, sitting with a black haired guy with dark tan skin.

Th guy grinned at me, "Hi, mi hermanastro. Check out who's singing; it's Feliks and some chick I've never met. She's tall though, taller than you, probably, and she's hot, too; but not as hot as mi amor."

"Speaking of Spain, where is he?"

"He's in the bathroom."

"WHAT?"

"Quiet, por favor. I can't hear."

I fell silent and listened to the woman (and feliks) singing.

"Frauen sind Sie bereit, uns jetzt beitreten?" the woman asked.  
"Ręce w powietrze, pokażemy, jak to zrobić." Feliks said.  
"Komm und probieren," the woman began.  
"Caramell będzie Twoim przewodnikiem" Feliks added.

"So kommen und Ihre Hüften bewegen singen 'Oa-ah-ah'." the woman sang.

"Spójrz na dwie biodra to zrobić 'La-la-la'." Feliks followed.

"Du und ich, können diese Melodie singen."

"Owah-owah-ah-oh. Taniec w rytmie, Wave dłonie, Come poczuć ciepło, zawsze i na wieki."

"Hören und Lernen; Es ist Zeit für tänzelnden, Jetzt sind wir hier mit."

"Karmelem Taniec!"

"What are they singing?"

"Caramelldansen, half was in polish and the other half was in german, I think... I don't speak german, so I don't know."

I looked up at the woman (and Feliks), something about her was oddly familiar... I didn't know why until I saw her say something to feliks and have him respond. He said something, she flushed scarlet and scratched the tip of her nose just once and then her finger hung there for a moment. Then her hands dropped to her sides and she laughed. She got down off the stage and helped feliks down.

_**GERMANY? **_I thought, freaking out. I tried to be logical and calm myself down, _**Germany couldn't pass for a girl he's too... **_but he wasn't. Not in America or Canada, because the average american was taller than the average european. That meant that while it would be hard for him to pass for a girl, it wouldn't be impossible.

I sighed, "Miguel, I'm going to bed. Could you tell Arthur that his ex-girlfriend was singing with Feliks?"

"Por supuesto, mi hermanastro."


	9. Friendless England

**Arthur Kirkland**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 27, 2163**

"Augh... I'll never drink again..." I groaned, my throbbing head in my hands.

_**Saying it hardly means anything... **_I thought, sighing and going into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror and thought that I saw the faintest bit of Brittania in my face. I was mistaken; my face was still Peter's.

My cellphone rang and I picked it up, flipping it open and putting it to my ear.

"Hello, this is Arthur Kirkland, how may I help you?" I said, still staring at my reflection.

"Hi, this is Mr. Andrew Kirkland's office. We're calling to tell you that a Peter Kirkland came here, looking for you. We gave him the wrong directions as per your instructions," said a womans voice.

"I need to speak with Andrew," I stated, my face draining of blood.

"Yes, sir, of course," the woman said.

There was a moment of silence and then, "Hello?" growled a deep voice.

"Andrew, where did you send Peter?"

"To Rome." the voice grumbled, "I decided that the best place for him to be away from you is in Rome."

"Unless none of the nations are in their homes; I'm at a world meeting right now, so I can tell you that, besides you, Daniel, Alexander, and Alexandra, they're all here."

"Son of a bitch!" it was a low hiss rather than a shout, "Why didn't you tell me that there was a world meeting this month?"

"I did. I told you twice a day, consistantly, since about 3 months ago when I found out."

"Damn it, Arthur! Peter's going to find out where you are from Feliciano's boss!"

"I'm in Canada and Feliciano's passport wasn't used to get here. He and Ludwig got a ride from Alfred and didn't use their passports except to get to America."

Andrew was silent for a moment, "I'm really sorry, Arthur..."

"Andrew, don't worry..."

"But... he hurt you so much... and I gave away where you are..."

"Don't worry, Big brother..." I felt myself beginning to cry and my voice cracked when I said, "It wasn't so bad actually... it didn't hurt as much as it could've..." _**and if he decides to beat me again... I'll just let him kill me... it's not like I have much to live for... **_I thought.

A part of my mind that I rarely if ever used for thought spoke up, _**you still have your friends...**_

_**What friends? **_I asked myself.

_**Matthew and Alieu... they think of you as their closest friend... and Alfred... he trusted you with every one of his deepest secrets... They're your friends... they trust you...**_

_**No. They'll leave me. Forget about me. Where were they when Peter beat me until I could hardly move? Where were they when he raped me?**_

_**They didn't know... You never told them... Never told them how much Peter scared you... You thought, 'Gentlemen never ask for help' and then you just took it without doing anything about it...**_

_**I couldn't do anything...**_


	10. Skin and Bones

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 27, 2163**

I knocked on the door that connected our two rooms, "Yo, Iggy! Can I come in?" I asked through the door.

"Um... Alfred, now's not the best time, I'm kind of busy at the moment; maybe in a few minutes," I counted the seconds until he yelled at me over calling him Iggy. He didn't get mad, though...

My eyebrows messed together as I tried to remember the last time England hadn't gotten mad at me over calling him something that wasn't his name. My eyes widened as I realized that it had been way back when I was still an english colony!

I turned the knob silently and opened the door. I needed to talk to him. We hadn't talked in a long, long time. Even if he was totally naked (I blushed a dark maroon), it was nothing that I hadn't seen before; he'd been bathing in the waterfall when mother almost killed him and she hadn't been able to find his clothes so when I first saw him, he was totally naked, anyway.

"England, I need to talk to you-," I began. I couldn't finish, the words caught in my throat when I saw him. He was so thin, almost nothing but skin and bones, and his back was covered in scars that were barely lighter than his skin. "England!" I shouted, my eyes wide(r than they were before).

He froze and his voice was cold, "Get out."

"No!" I shouted, "Wha- What the hell is going on here?"

He turned and glared at me, his eyes somehow burning and cold as ice at the same time, "I told you to leave, you bleeding yankee idiot."

"England, How long has this been going on?"

He sighed, "I must say that I really don't know..." He closed his eyes, a ghost of his usual sarcastic smirk playing across his pale face, "So, you're gonna risk a painful gristly death rather than leave?"

I paled, "You wouldn't seriously kill me... would you? I mean, I'm your favorite colony..."

"You're sadly mistaken. I prefer Canada over you, below him is Brittany, below her is Alaska, below him is Australia, and Illinois is below him. You aren't even in the top five."

"W-What? You mean you actually would kill me?"

He laughed softly and his smirk spread, "Maybe I will... or Maybe I won't..." He opened his eyes, "You never did answer the question, Alfred-Love... would you rather die a painfully gristly death or leave me in peace?"

I thought for a moment and then I grinned, I think that I'll risk that death, Iggy."


	11. Tell the Truth

Arthur Kirkland

Montreal, Quebec

October 27, 2163

I groaned, "Alfred F. Jones, Stop calling me that!"

He pouted, "fine." His eyes were slowly travelling all over my body. He was silent for a while, "England, what's going on with you? You never talk to me anymore... not even to argue. You completely ignored everyone and when Germany asked what you thought of my idea, you were asleep... Why would you do that?"

"Because I don't want to argue anymore... I just want to be left alone..." _**and if I talk to people, they'll notice that somethings wrong and stop me from dying...**_

"...England... you shouldn't look like this, you're thin as a bone..."

_**I don't really care...**_ I thought. "I know, but that's none of your concern."

"England! How could you think that?" He stared at me and seemed like something was caught in his throat. He lowered his voice, "England... I'm going to tell you something as Alfred F. Jones and I want you to listen as Arthur Kirkland."

I nodded, unsure of what he was leading up to.

"A-arthur... My boss told me never to say this but that was way back when my boss was still Washington... I'll say it now because I don't want to keep it to myself anymore..."

I raised an eyebrow.

"I l-l- Well, fuck me runnin'!" he shouted.

"What?"

"I can't say it... I want to, but I can't..."

"Just say it."

"I can't..."

"SAY IT."

"Fine... what does the 'F' in my name stand for?"

"Freedom, stupid."

"Wait, what?"

"Freedom."

"Wait, like the land of the free?"

I nodded, "Yes," I closed my eyes and sat on my bed, "I knew that you were going to declare independance someday and I knew what you would become..."

"You knew?"

"Yes, idiot, now say what ever it was that you wanted to say."

"Um, ok... Will you Arthur Kirkland, the Embodiement of The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, promise to listen to the words of Alfred Freedom Jones, the Embodiement of The United States of America?"

"Yes," I said, "If you'll just say what's on your mind and be done with it."

"...Ok... Um... I like you... like more than a friend... and when you ignore me... it hurts... but... when you smile... even if you're ignoring me... it's beautiful and I love it... but... you're not happy... you don't smile anymore... I care about you England... so, you being thin as a bone... that matters to me..."

I stared into his eyes, "What do you want from me?" I asked, holding my voice down.

"I want you to talk to me... We never talk anymore and I miss arguing with you..."

I sighed, "I'll consider it..."

~A/N- Last chance for the poll! At 11:59 PM December 31st I will be closing the poll so if you haven't voted yet, please do!


	12. La Plus Chère et Le Petit Confédéré

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 27, 2163**

"Come on, Iggy. Please?" I asked, my voice quiet for once. England was sitting on his bed thinking and I didn't want to start shouting and get him kicked out.

He sighed, "Fine... I'll talk to you, I suppose..." England said, slowly, "but you can't tell anyone..."

"Not even Germany?" the moment I said it I wished I hadn't; he look like he was in so much pain, just thinking about his former lover.

"Germany has nothing to do with this..." He said, turning away from me.

"He deserves to know. He still loves you, god only knows why; if you'd cheated on me I'd have killed ya."

"_**That's really not helping you...**_" said a voice.

I got back on track, "but he really does love you, bless his heart, and he misses you. You talk to him less often than you talk to me."

England stayed silent.

"What about your kids? Robert and Robin? When was the last time that you saw them?"

"...Robert's third birthday... four years ago, that was..." England finally said.

"You have seen your kids in FOUR YEARS?" I yelled, louder than I'd meant to. I blushed, brought my voice back down, and continued, "How is it that I'm a better dad than you? I see all of my 33, THIRTY-FUCKING-THREE, kids at least once each every year! I understand that you're not me but, seriously, you keep calling me a shitty dad because Alieu doesn't like living with me, but your kids haven't seen you in 4 years!"

He sighed and started going through a suitcase, beside his bed, taking out an oversized black t-shirt with a white cirle made from fabric paint on the front. Inside the circle were the words 'tynnu-gylch'.

"What does that mean?"

"What?"

"The thing on the shirt..." I tried to pronounce it but Arthur silenced me with a loud groan.

"It means draw-a-circle, in Welsh, if I recall correctly..." He said the words, enunciating carefully, and sighed again, "Alfred, get out. I'm tired and I can't sleep with you here..." He slipped the shirt over his head and glared at me. "I'm serious. Get out or that death you chose to risk is assured, and believe me when I say this, It will be the longest, most gruesome, most excruciatingly painful experience in your life."

I felt the blood drain from my face and I left the room. I ran into france in the Hallway. He grinned at me.

"Salut, mon cher," he said, bowing slightly. "Did you find Robert-douce?"

"Uhuh, he was in the lounge, apparently!" _**SHIT! **_I thought, _**Germany was right, I can't keep myself quiet...**_

"Ufufufufu... 'ow is dear Arthur? I 'eard from Louis zat 'e was feeling a bit ill at yesterday's meeting..."

_**And he says that **__**I**__** can't keep my mouth shut... **_"He's tired and grumpy and he sent me away with a death threat."

"Zat's no reason for you to leave, MAIS NON!" France said. His smiled relaxed a bit and was warm. "Listen to me, my dear Alfred; 'e threatens to kill me all ze time, I never leave when 'e tells me to, and 'e 'asn't killed me, yet, 'as he?"

"No, but I'm not you."

"True, you are not ze perfection zat is Le France but still... 'e loves you, Alfred; 'e is even less likely to kill you. Is zere something seriously wrong with him...?"

I decided to tell someone even though England had told me not to. "Yeah... He's thin as bone, now, Francis, and, when I asked him about it... He said that it was 'none of my concern...'"

"Eugh... don't ever do that again..."

"Did I get his voice right?"

"It was exactly like his voice..."

"well, anyway, He's not talking to any of the nations... Not Germany, Not Ivan (though I really hadn't expected him to talk to Ivan anyway), Not even Canada-!"

"Leave Darling Canade out of this, s`il te plait," France said, his tone flat.

"Eh... okay. Anyway, all I know is that Alieu talks to him occassionally and Allan is actually trying to-"

"Leave L'Illinois out of it also..."

"He won't talk to anyone... What should I do...?"

"You said that he is bone thin, Oui?"

"Uhuh."

"You need to make him eat so that he will no longer be bone thin. If I may..."

He paused for a moment.

"You and L'Angleterre... you have a history together, Non? You love him, and he loves you. Do you know where I am going with this?"

I flushed a dark maroon color as I realized what he was saying, "Y-you mean that I have to... with England...? H-he doesn't like me that way..."

"Ah, but he does! He had been with many others before he met you but did you know that he hasn't been with anyone, since the end of the revolutionary war?"

"Not true. What about Germany?"

"Ufufufufu... He wasn't in his right mind at the time... I had been wondering when La Plus Chère would be back."

"Eh... La Plus Chère? Qu'est ce que c'est?" I asked, my french mediocre at best.

"La Plus Chère is England but not England... Do you remember how you split when you were still a young country?"

I nodded.

"There was another, was there not?"

I nodded again.

"That was the confederacy. You have experienced having to share your country with another. L'Angleterre is different; rather than having split his body and become two, he merged with another and became one. L'Angleterre that I knew long ago in the 16th century... that was La Plus Chère. The Dearest One... He was not L'Angleterre, but he was. He ruled the seas but he was no gentleman; no, the closest that I've seen L'Angleterre to being La Plus Chère was when he was a punk and we all know how that worked out. They were two very different people..."

"And?"

"La Plus Chère was in control of L'Angleterre's body for a very long time... So long that some countries, such as La Russe, never learned the difference... then came Les guerres de la Roses... that was a very turbulant time for L'Angleterre, and when I say L'Angleterre, I mean L'Angleterre's Body; as I said he was not in control of himself..."

"When was that?"

"from 1455 up until 1485... I really should tell you... It was a bit like chess..."

"In what way is a civil war like chess?"

"Two Kings, their queens, and their armies fighting...and the king can do nothing but surrender... La Plus Chère was La Rose Blanche and L'Angleterre, or Le sans amis as he was aptly called, was La Rose Rouge... It was like the battle of the queens in that one book that I neglected to read by Lewis Carroll... You read it once, Oui?"

"Yeah, but only because England told me to."

"What was it called, Amerique?"

"Through the looking glass."

"Ah, yes... I remember that..."

I had to get France back on track, "That's a great story and all, but could you please tell me how this pertains to what you said earlier because you've lost me."

"Here is a summary; L'Angleterre has not been with anyone by choice since the revolution, this is because he loves you. When he was with Germany, he was not in control and I believe that Germany knows about this. La Plus Chère was the one in control and L'Angleterre has told me that he still remains a voice in L'Angleterre's head, Just like your Petit Confédéré-."

"Don't call him that. He isn't a little anything; he was a huge problem that eventually got my favorite boss shot. He was an asshole who faced me at every turn, and I'm glad that I won; that war went on for too long. Don't call him that, ever ever again." I could barely recognize my own voice.


	13. New Years Fic Sealand

**Peter Pendragon**

**The South Pole, Antarctica**

**October 16, 2163**

Solitary confinement... I wasn't in Solitary anymore... I was there for about 1/2 a year and then I was put back in a normal cell. The warden actually scolded the guards for putting such a young man in Solitary. I was young but I wasn't small anymore. I had grown alot in the time before I was sent to jail.

The warden thought that being in solitary affected my sanity. No, that's not true; he 'knew' that solitary had affected my sanity. I hadn't been sane in a long long time. I hadn't been sane since before my dear friend Iceland acknowledged me as a nation. I had lost my self but my time in solitary had actually helped me to regain my sanity... I had become a rather small empire, having conquered all of Britain, and I had used my friends to become the person that I had been; someone who I did not want to be.

I had never wanted to hurt England... I just wanted to prove that I was a strong nation... I just wanted to show him that I could be a good nation... I lost myself and I think I hurt him... I never got mad at him after 2012 because I was so scared that the bloody world would end that I wanted to be nice... 150 years of no anger... passive agression... that's how it was... I snapped and lost control of myself... Belarus, Seychelles, and Seborga all helped me to capture him and put him under my control... I overworked him... I beat him... I... raped him... I made him scared to even walk down the street by himself... I made him self concious of all his faults... I made him want to die... I made him- I made him- I made him- It was all my fault...

"Heheheh... I thought that the solitary would make me more sane but it just made me less sane in a completely different way..." I said, laughing softly.

I sighed and closed my eyes, _**2 years down... 198 to go...**_

~A/N- Here is the Promised New Years fic! Sealand examining his mind and finding that he never wanted to hurt England in the first place (but he still hurt Iggy. *glares at Sealand* Bad Sea-kun!)


	14. The Third World Meeting

**Arthur Kirkland**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 30, 2163**

I had decided that I would try to skip the meeting, but Alfred actually woke up at FIVE IN THE MORNING, just to make sure that I didn't sneak off. He also dragged me down to the closest McDonald's and made me pick something.

"Hash Browns," I said, my tone flat.

"Aw, come on. You can have my Hash Brown; they always give me one even though I don't even eat them anymore..."

I reluctantly ate the small ovular potato patty that the American had nibbled off of. He'd never let me hear the end of it if I didn't finish it. I really did not want to eat something that touched his lips but if I didn't eat it... not only would he be pissed, I wouldn't have enough energy to stay awake during the meeting. I didn't want anyone to find out what was wrong with me besides Alfred. I had enough trouble with the idiot not keeping his voice low; I didn't need any more of that type of problems.

Promptly at 7:30 AM, he dragged me back to the hotel and said, "Alright, I gotta go get dressed. You have to get dressed, too."

I raised an eyebrow at him, "But you usually wear jeans to the meetings... and you're already dressed."

"I'm gonna wear Khaki today, ok?"

_**Khaki...? Since when does he wear Khaki...? **_I thought, mildly confused. I sighed, "Whatever makes you happy, I suppose..."

Walking slowly, I went back to my room and put on something considerably less formal than what I normally wore to world meetings. I pulled the black polo over my head and put on my usual navy suit pants under it. I didn't tuck my shirt in (another first) but I did wear a suit jacket that matched. I was strangely unhappy with the black shirt so I changed into a white one. That didn't feel right either... I ended up changing my shirt 10 or 12 times and yet I still didn't like it... it felt strange to me...

There was a banging at the door, "Hey, Iggy! It's 8:30, dude! Come on!" Shouted a voice. a short pause then, "That was good, Da?"

"Eh... lose the Da and then we'll tawk," said another. "I just can't bulieve that Iggy's still in his room! No'mally he's up and about lawng bufore dad is!"

_**Jersey...?**_

I opened the door, having decided on the white shirt, and found a young lady with dark brown hair and a child. The woman turned her bluish amber eyes on me and stared at my shirt. "Is that cotton or poly-ester?" she asked, staring into my eyes.

"Um... Cotton. Synthetics are bad for the environment," I said.

She looked so happy that she could cry, "I love ya, Iggy. And I'm not just sayin' that 'cause I'm pawt of Dad an' all; I really love ya."

"Whatever you say-" I paused and went over what she said in my head. "What...?"

"Oh, neva-mind!" she said, flushing maroon and putting her hand on the child's head. She ruffled his hair, "Lieu-Lieu and me was just comin' to tell ya that Dad already left for the meetin'; he told us that ya might be tryin' to escape."

_**DAMN IT! **_I thought, pinching the bridge of my nose. I smiled slightly, "No way... Wait here for a moment; I need to go get some shoes..."

5 minutes later, I was walking down the hall with a woman who chatttered incessantly in a language that seemed like it was english but I couldn't be sure. She talked more than Alfred (if that was possible).

The meeting room was the usual, a mix of old and new. Old chairs, old table, new carpets, new wallpaper, and, of course, the nations which were a mix of old and new even without their clothing. I felt someone's hand on the small of my back, and I groaned when I found that it was François. "Damn it, France! You and I are not friends! We are enemies!"

"And yet, I still love you, L'Angleterre... I wonder why that is..."

"It's because you're a retard who wouldn't know love from lust if love bit him in the ass."

"Ah, don't be that way, Angleterre."

"How do you expect me to treat an enemy?"

"With a little more courtesy and at least a little compassion."

"Fat chance. I hate you more than enough for none of that to apply."

"I thought that you were a gentleman."

"Not when it comes to goddamn frogs, such as yourself."

"Well, if you aren't going to be a gentleman, I suppose that you're being a lady, instead. If you're a lady, I should be the gentleman, non?"

He proceeded to move his hand from the small of my back to my ass and I blushed scarlet when one of his fingers touched my tail bone. I spun around prepared to punch him across his face, but he kissed me. It was nothing like the chaste kisses that I'd seen him give to Matthew or Alfred. It was almost like the deep ones that he gave to Allan and Anne, but it was still deeper and more passionate than that. I felt like throwing up, not because this was one of my enemies, but because this was further than he usually like to go. He was no longer doing this just to see me squirm, this was serious.

I pulled back and slapped him across the face, beginning to cry. I forced my way out of the room and ran blindly out of the Hotel into the dark and freezing night.


	15. Into the Snow

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 30, 2163**

I came back with a drink container, carrying the requests of the other nations; Café au lait for France, Schwarzer Kaffee for Germany, Green tea for Japan and China, and Coffee for me. Everyone else had said no when I asked if they wanted coffee. France was standing awkwardly in front of the door, with one hand holding his cheek. He looked mildly disappointed.

"Hey, France. Why're you just standin' there?"

"...He slapped me... Il… m'a frappée au visage parfait... (he... hit my perfect face...)"

"Who slapped you?"

"L'Angleterre..."

"What? Why?" I knew that they were enemies but it wasn't so bad that England would slap him for no reason."

"Il m'a giflée pour aucune raison! Je n'ai fait que l'embrasser! (He slapped me for no reason! All I did was kiss him!)"

Before I knew what I was doing, France was on the ground and I was on top of him, hitting him frantically, not caring where my fists hit.

"Amerika!" Germany yelled, trying to pull me off.

Spain came up behind him and helped Germany get me off France. I was sobbing by then and Mexico tried to calm me down.

"Mi querida medio-hermano... por favor no llores... por favor, por favor, no llores, querida América... (My dear half-brother... please don't cry... please, please don't cry, darling America...)"

"... Besó Inglaterra ... Le BESO Inglaterra, Miguel ... Quiero lo golpearon hasta que plantea para la misericordia ... hasta que es tan humillado como Inglaterra- (...He kissed England... He KISSED England, Michael... I want to beat him until he begs for mercy... Until he's just as humiliated as England was-)" I clapped my hand over my mouth.

"¿Qué? (What?)"

"¡Nada! (Nothing!))"

"Dime, hermano o yo nunca lo sabremos! (Tell me, brother or I'll never know!)"

"No!"

"Tell me!"

"No! Which way did he go?"

"He ran out of the hotel but He wasn't looking where he was going. He ran into the woods... and I don't think that he's coming back..."

"M-miguel! He could freeze to death! I have to go find him!"

"No! YOU could freeze to death!"

"I don't care!"

I tried to get away from Mexico, but he was gripping my arm so hard that it left bruises.

"Let-me-go!"I cried, sobbing.

"NO!"

"Miguel, unless you want to get blown up and experience the pain of atom bombs, let me go!"

He let me go and I took off running into the woods chasing down England.


	16. FOR THE LOVE OF MAPLE!

**Arthur Kirkland**

**Somewhere in the Woods, Canada**

**October 31, 2163**

I groaned and rubbed my eyes. _**Where am I...? **_I opened my eyes, and blinked blearily. I could vaguely see someone but the room was dark and I couldn't tell who it was...

I was so tired that I fell asleep again, but the second time I woke up I was completely alone in a queen sized bed.

"Hi, America..." said a voice.

A short pause.

"Yeah, he's here; why...?"

A longer pause.

"All roads lead to my house you know..."

A shortish pause.

"Yes, of course..." the voice said. "He was awfully shaken up by Papa's actions..."

A question.

"If possible, yes..."

Silence.

"Hi, Papa."

I heard footsteps moving towards me.

"What exactly did you do to Artie...?"

A pause.

"Yes, he's here but I don't see how that's any of your-" an interruption. "Papa... He doesn't like you that way..."

Another pause and then the voice dropped.

I sat up in the bed, suddenly aware that this was a house I'd never been in before. I shuddered.

"Bye, America..." said the voice, "Yeah, I'll keep him from leaving..."

The footsteps came closer to the room and I watched the door. A tall young man with dirty blond hair stood in the doorway

"Hi, England..." He said, smiling softly. His voice was near-silent like the way you would speak to calm down a frightened animal. "How'd you sleep...?"

I rubbed my eyes again, "...Alfred?"

"No..." The man's eye twitched, "It's Matthew..." a short pause, "...America called... he damn near tore Papa a new one over kissing you... and by the way... holding in all that frustration is gonna kill you some day..." He continued, walking acros the room and lighting a candle on the nightstand beside the bed.

"...uh..." I wish I could've been more articulate but I was kind of distracted by the fact that the young nation was standing in front of me, stark naked.

He kissed me on my forehead, "...Papa's gonna leave you alone from now on... I doubt that there was a single person in the world who couldn't hear your screaming..." He laughed softly, "Except for america who couldn't hear you if he tried..."

"...what do you mean...?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"I mean that you were screaming in the old tongue... constantly..." His expression soured, "It was kind of annoying..."

_**...this could be bad... **_I thought, "What did I say...?"

"You said... 'it hurts...' you said that several times... 'it hurts...' you also told me not to stop... ever..." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You have some weird kinks, Arthur..."

"Maybe so..." _**at least it wasn't peter...**_

"...England... you called me alfred... while we were having sex... you called me Alfred... I'm fine with being the host of your pity party but you need to tell him..."

"Tell him, what? That I love him? That I've always loved him? Matthew... I can't tell him that... He'd laugh at me... Call me an old fool and send me on my way... and maybe I am an old fool..." I could feel my eyes fill with tears. "It's not like I'm a young man, anymore..."

"That's nonsense." Matthew said, for once his voice just as loud as Alfred's. They sounded exactly the same, "You're not old. You're only 4 years older than America."

"And he's 38 now..." I sighed. "Matthew... I'm not a young man anymore... I'm in my forties... you may be 29, now but... compared to me... you're a child, love..."

"Arthur Kirkland, You are not old! Look at China! Now HE is OLD!"

"Yes, but he's asian. In asian countries, young people respect their elders which they no longer do in Western Culture..."

He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, obviously having nothing to say that could disprove my point.

"I've grown old, Canada... I-I... I can't handle being... being me... I-I... Canada, if I tell you this... you can't tell anyone..."

"No problem..." his voice dropped back down. "No one listens to me other than America and Mexico..."

"...I've been thinking about killing myself... just thinking on it... no concrete plans..."

"...I see..." He kept his tone neutral but I could see something in his eyes, "...you're planning to kill yourself..."

"As I said, no concrete plans..."

"...England..." He took a deep breath, "YOU ARE PLANNING TO FUCKING KILL YOURSELF? FOR THE LOVE OF MAPLE, CARE ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE FOR A CHANGE! OH, 'BOO HOO, I'M ENGLAND AND I DON'T HAVE ANY FRIENDS!' FUCKING GROW UP, GODDAMMIT! I'M INVISIBLE FOR HOCKEY'S SAKE! ALIEU HAS TO LIVE WITH THE TORTURE OF BEING A FUCKING CHILD FOR HALF THE YEAR, AND YOU KNOW WHAT? HE DOESN'T FUCKING CRY ABOUT IT! HE JUST GOES WITH IT!"

I was so shocked that I stopped crying.

"...I apologise for my language... but you can't do that..." Matthew said, his voice back down to near silence again, "I care about you too much to let you die... I know that I'm not the one that you love but I love you..."


	17. Search by Aura

**Alfred F. Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 31, 2163**

I decided to find my England. MY England. He was still in Canada, and France had no Idea where he was. It occurred to me that I had even less of an idea as to where England was.

Less than none...

I walked through the freezing cold, weaving my way into the woods and then trying something that I'd never tried before. Finding something based purely on aura... England could do this, France could (sort of), Canada could do it, even China could detect Auras... The tricky part was trying to do this when I'd never thought to do so before... When you can detect auras, you barely need eyes... I closed my eyes and sighed, "I'm gonna need some help on this one..."

"_**Father... Hello... How are you...?**_" said a quiet whisper of a voice. It was most definitely a male voice but it had a sound to it that was feminine... It was like my voice only deeper and extremely quiet.

"Allan... I need your help," I said.

"_**You turned down our magic... Father... You said that we were heathens...**_"

"I was wrong-"

"_**You must live with the mistakes you've made. We are not you, Father... None of us care about your Darling... England... Pale face... The pale ones... they like him... we do not...**_"

"Allan," I paused and sighed. "I have to find him so that your dad can apologize..."

"_**We don't care... Daddy left us- left us- left us-**_"

For some reason, I could see a little child, rocking back and forth in the snow, looking away from me. It's long black corn-silk hair hung all around it, a curtain between it and the world.

"_**He left us... **_**He left us- and ****Maman**** died- and Mathieu went away- and Toni abandoned us- and all the others called us big brother- and then only we could speak- and then we met Father- and we met the others- and we got scared and ran away- and Anne found us- and she loved us- then she left us-"**

"Allan..." I whispered, walking towards the child, careful not to make a sound.

"_**He left us- he left us- he left us- he said he loved us-**_" The same phrase repeated, over and over. It occurred to me that I was no longer hearing his voice in my head. I was hearing a child's voice and I was ACTUALLY hearing it, rather than the voice being inside my head.

"Allan..." I said again, getting closer to the child.

"_**...He said he loved us... he LIED... Hate him- Hate him- Hate **__**him- We loved him... he never loved us... he LIED... always lied... Easier to stay by ourselves... Father was the first one... We thought he loved us... He didn't, though...**_" It was the child. I froze when I realized that this child was referring to itself in plural.

I walked around the child and looked into it's eyes. It was so young... only 8 years old... and yet it's hair was at least 5 feet long.

"_**Mathieu... Maman... Sunday... Lieu-lieu... Big Brother...**_" The child said, its Sea green eyes glistening wetly and reflecting the snow. The child's skin was russet... very uncommon here, where the most warm sunlight was during the summer and it was snowy and overcast for the rest of the year. "_**Left us... Died... Abandoned us... Forgot about us... Left us behind...**_"

"Hey... are you okay?" I asked, hesitantly.

The child stared into my eyes, "_**...big brother...?**_"

I tried to remember who this child was... my eyes widened as I recognized his face. "...A-alta...?"

"_**...big brother!**_"

~A/N- Okay! Waste of time, yes, but I updated when I wasn't going to for a while! So we have Alta (Free Cyber-Cookie and Pairing fic for anyone who can guess what Alta represents) and We have Allan/A Native American State (Same for him)! [Welcome, 8th Hour English Students. Please review. Reviews are much appreciated. And tell me what you said at School when you next see me.]


	18. Sleeping in MY room?

**Alfred F Jones**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 31, 2163**

At the insistence of Alta, my long lost little brother, I went back to the hotel and found Canada, walking out of the building. I was suddenly pissed when I saw that he didn't have England with him. I walked up to him and punched him so hard across the face that his glasses clattered against the sidewalk, skidding into a snow bank.

"What the fuck, Hoser?" Canada shouted, picking up his glasses and glaring viciously.

"Where's Iggy?"

"Maple-Hockey, that HURTS; why did you hit so hard? He asked me to take him back and I knew that if he tried to come back on his own, he would've gotten lost and possibly frozen to death; He's in his room, Idiot!"

"What's up with you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at his gratuitous cussing.

"Hm, so you noticed, huh? You can take this and shove it up your ass," Canada said, glaring into my eyes, "He loves you, Asshole. He loves YOU. I would give everything for him to love me even as much as he loves France- and he DOES love France- but he doesn't love me; he loves you. You never noticed did you? He was trying so hard to get you to notice him, to notice that something was wrong with him, that he was being hurt; you never noticed. It was me and Egypt who noticed; Me, the one that no one ever notices, and Egypt, the one who never says anything. We noticed before anything happened and we tried to tell you."

I was shocked that he loved Iggy... We were brothers... I thought that we told each other everything... I certainly told him everything...

"...See ya later, Hoser," Canada said, spitting in my direction. "And sleep in your own room tonight, he's was shaken up when Papa did what he usually does; imagine how he would be if he woke up to find you in his bed."

I went up to my room wondering what crawled up Canada's ass (but really not wanting to know), and I dug an old looking magazine out of my suitcase. An ancient Shonen Jump from way back in January of 2011, that I'd only kept because I had no interest in any of the new comics. Japan still had these... all the way back to the very first... and he had reprints... reprints of reprints of reprints... it made me drool just thinking about the awesome action...

I flipped the magazine open and started reading, honestly having nothing better to do. A few minutes in there was a knock at the door... a short thing... just three knocks followed by four more.

"It's unlocked, Dude," I said, focused on my magazine.

"Um... America...?" I heard the door open and I looked up from my magazine. It was england, looking at me nervously from behind the door. "Can I sleep in your room tonight...?"

"Sure," I felt like messing with him a little so I said: "if you let me love you for a few minutes," I grinned as I received the desired affect (ie: Iggy's blood draining from his face).

"No Sex..." Iggy said, firmly but so quiet that I could barely hear him.

"Of course not! Did I say make love to you?" I pretended to be mortified. "Honestly, Iggy, I have half a mind to say no and send you back to your room-"

"...I'm sorry, America... I... I just... can't sleep... by myself..." he half-smiled at me, "If you don't want me to... I can go... Maybe... sleep with the kids... or Matthew..."

Panicking, I said, "No, no, it's fine!" I grinned, trying to hide the fact that I didn't want Iggy to leave me. "I mean, it's only fair, since you let me sleep in your bed all the time when I was younger."

England smiled softly, "Okay... if you're okay with me being here..."

"...well, I guess that I should go and get something to eat... seeing as I won't be able to leave while you're asleep..." England was notorious for being a VERY light sleeper and NOT a morning person. I crooked him a half-smile and said, "Do you want something?" Translation: 'what should I get you that you'll actually eat?'

"Em... I don't really want anything..." Translation: 'there's nothing that you'll get me that I'll eat.'

"I'll just get you some fruit or something..." Translation: 'you WILL eat the thing that I bring back for you.'

"Maybe..." Translation: 'No.'

"Well... um... make yourself at home, I guess... I'll be back in a little bit..."

"...alright..."

I had the strangest feeling that Iggy wanted me to stay... but I quickly shook off the feeling, walking out the door and trying to decide where to go.

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**A/N~ Hey, people; update for Until I Changed. I FINALLY BEAT MY EPIC BRICK WALL! The next update will be a little dreamscape for you guys... inside of Iggy's mind. Iggy thinks back on his memories of America and hates on himself... poor iggy.**


	19. Memories

**Disclaimer(As made by Me): I don't own Hetalia. If I did, America and Iggy would be together, Canada would be in love with Iggy, France would be even MORE pervy (possible?), and Texas would be married to Hong Kong, Korea, and Vancouver... all at once... Also, I would be the boss of all the countries... and that would make me GOD.**

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**Arthur Kirkland**

**Montreal, Quebec**

**October 31, 2163**

_**'No way! Is it really okay for me to have it?' The little boy looked at me excitedly, holding the box of toy soldiers.**_

_**'Of course, it is; I did make it special just for you, America...' I smiled at him.**_

_**'Oh man, this is cool; thanks, Mr Britain, sir!' He grinned... the smile of a little kid.**_

_**'Take good care of it... after all... I nearly broke my hand while I was piecing it together...' I laughed a little.**_

_**'Wow... Now, I've got my own toy soldiers!' He gasped, 'You made all their faces different!'**_

_**'I painted each individual figure separately...' I explained, putting my hand on the colony's head.**_

I felt my eyes begin to fill with tears, I hated those memories... Those memories of when America actually cared about me... Of when my affection toward him was that of an older brother to his younger sibling, rather than an unrequited feeling of love... I hated them... it was like they were mocking me.

_**'Hey, what's with the suit?' He asked, holding up the baby blue suit, 'It looks expensive... too bad... I'll never wear it...'**_

_**'You should. Dressing like a pauper isn't in fashion.' I explained, not quite smiling but not scowling either, 'I refuse to be seen with you if you're not dressed properly.'**_

_**'So, what's the matter? I think, the way that I dress is perfectly acceptable!' He was in the question phase... not a good phase for a colony.**_

_**I managed to convince him to at least try the suit on before he flat out denied it.**_

_**'See?' I asked, standing behind him and almost smiling as I watched him look in the mirror, 'Dressed like that, it's hard to believe you're the same person.'**_

_**'Sure, but this isn't comfortable...' He commented, 'I guess, I'll just wear it on special occassions, then...'**_

And as a young man, when my love was just starting to sprout... he was such a handsome boy. I looked back fondly on that particular time... it marked the end of his childhood, but he was still a loyal colony... still a younger brother.

_**It was raining... the rain used to be such a calming thing for me... but this day... this day ruined the endlessly home-like rains that seem to plague my dear United Kingdom...**_

_**'Hey, Britain, all I want is my freedom. I'm no longer a child, nor your little brother. From now on, consider me independent!'**_

_**Before I even knew what I was doing, I had jabbed my bayonet at him and knocked the gun out of his hands. I aimed my musket in his face, 'I won't allow it! You idiot, Why can't you follow anything through to the end?'**_

_**'Present, Give,' the man behind me ordered. There was a rapid clacking sound as all of my soldiers aimed at what had once been my favorite colony... at my little brother.**_

_**He stared at me for a few moments, shock covering his pretty face... Was I actually going to shoot him...? Did I want to keep him enough that I would... just shoot him?**_

_**I lowered my gun, 'There's no way I can shoot you... I can't...' I dropped to my knees and my gun fell out of my hand, clattering onto the rain soaked ground, 'why...? Damn it, why? It's not fair...'**_

_**'You know Why...' the new nation said. He watched as I sobbed, crying over the little brother that was leaving the United Kingdom... leaving the safety of the Crown's protection... leaving me... forever, 'What happened...? I remember when you were great...'**_

_**He left me, sitting there, bawling my eyes out, and I was led off by some of the soldiers... I was put on the first boat back to Great Britain... and as I traveled back to my home... I began to hate the endless rain.**_

It scarred me... my heart had been virgin territory... but he had stolen it as a child... and broken it as a man... it hurt me... and it taught me an invaluable lesson; never love another... it always ends in pain.

I still believed that... but, now... it was more than it had once been... 'never love another... not even as a brother... it ends in worse than pain'... Peter had taught me that.

And yet... I still loved America... even after he'd broken my heart... after I'd locked my heart away again... after I'd hidden behind that sarcastic, sharp-tongued mask... I still loved him. I couldn't help myself...

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**A/N~ Iggy's hating on himself and his memories... poor guy... but can you guess what America's going to come back to? [review ASAP; reviews are necessary, plz]**


	20. The Letter

Alfred F Jones

Somewhere in Montreal, Quebec

October 31, 2163

Somehow... when I left I wasn't expecting this... AT ALL.

England was passed out in my bed (not the weird part), and my WHOLE ROOM smelled like _Boston Lager_ (there it is), the ONLY type of Alcohol that he would NOT touch. From the number of bottles... he'd either brought his own (not likely), broken into my car (slightly more likely), or he'd found my secret stash (yeah, let's go with that one). There were... at least... 36 empty bottles of Lager; he was totally smashed… not that I minded. At least he was quiet...

I decided to use the free wi-fi to search the net for a little bit and was surprised when someone (England) hugged me around my shoulders. I stiffened; I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Why did you leave me?" England asked, hanging off my shoulders and whispering in my ear.

"I had to go and get you something to eat, Iggy..." I said. "Um... Apple?" I offered, my voice shaking a little.

"That's not what I meant... You know what I meant..." He murmured, his voice deadly serious.

I remembered... it was the war... it always was... "The Revolution?"

"Yes... Why did you leave me...? I tried so hard to keep you... and then you left me... Why...?"

"I needed to be free..."

"...You left me... for HIM... how could you do that...?"

"For who?" he had never mentioned anything besides me having left him when he was drunk... who was this mysterious... HIM?

"...You went to him... and You used him... to get me... and you broke it..." He let go of me and I heard him sit on the bed.

"Used who...? Broke what?" I was genuinely confused.

"You broke ME."

"W-what?"

"You used him... and that broke ME."

"Used who?"

"YOU USED FRANÇOIS! YOU USED HIM AND IT BROKE MY HEART! YOU COULD'VE TOLD ME AND I WOULD'VE LET YOU GO!" I could hear the tears in his voice.

"What? Why would that break your heart? I thought that you hate Francois..."

"I DO! THAT'S HOW YOU BROKE MY HEART, WANKER! I LOVED YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING, HATED HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING, AND THEN YOU **LEFT****ME**** FOR ****HIM**!"

"I-Iggy, I-" I stood and crossed the room. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, he sobbed into my chest. My shirt was soaked in seconds, and he was blubbering like a little baby.

"You left me... Alfred... You left me..."

I pressed my lips to the top of his head, "but I'm here now."

"...Is breá liom tú... Is breá liom tú, Meiriceá... Feicfidh mé grá i gcónaí leat... Rwyf wrth fy modd i chi... brawd bach... bob amser ac am byth..." England murmured, still crying into my shirt.

"...I love you, Iggy..." I said, my voice quiet.

"Gau i fyny ... wanker dwp ... nad ydych yn fy ngharu ... Rwyf wrth fy modd CHI ... A pheidiwch anghofio eich ... Wanker dúr..." he sighed, nodding off against my chest.

I kissed him on his forehead and lay him in the bed before taking off my shirt and climbing under the covers with him, hugging him agaiinst my chest.

_**...my dear Iggy... I love you so much... I just never told you... but I've told you now... and I won't let anything hurt you...**_

I remembered a letter that Iggy had written to me, but I'd been too busy to read... I slowly moved and took the envelope out of my pants pocket. That reminded me... I hadn't changed clothes yet.

I tore the envelope open and took out the letter which was dated a few months before I went to visit him and Sealand.

_'Mr. Alfred Friedrich Jones,_

_1600 Pennsylvania Ave,_

_NW Washington D.C._

_USA_

_Alfred,_

_I have a feeling that Peter's lost himself..._

_He's been looking a bit disturbed as of recently... He came to my house yesterday with the strangest look on his face... he looked... like how Will did before he lost... before he died._

_Maybe his new status as a nation is messing with his mind... Iceland wasn't my first choice for someone to acknowledge him as a Country... but then, Sweden wasn't either._

_Anyway, why don't you talk to him? He's the only younger brother I have, now and I would hate for him to be hurt..._

_ ~Arthur Kirkland_

_P.S.~ Do you want to come over... just to talk?'_

I crushed the letter in my fist and hugged Iggy even closer; It was all my fault... that Sealand had beat him... All my fault.

**A/N~ Props to 'RabbidFanBoy' my little brother, for giving me the idea about the letter! He truly is the best Brother a writer could ask for! [Friedrich is a german/dutch name... but I needed something to be his 'human' middlename; How does 'America Freedom Jones sound'?]**

**TRANSLATIONS~**

**'...Is breá liom tú... Is breá liom tú, Meiriceá... Feicfidh mé grá i gcónaí leat...' = Irish: I love you... I love you, America... I'll always love you...**

**'Rwyf wrth fy modd i chi... brawd bach... bob amser ac am byth...' = Welsh: I love you... little brother... always and forever...**

**'Gau i fyny... wanker dwp... nad ydych yn fy ngharu... Rwyf wrth fy modd CHI... A pheidiwch anghofio eich...' = Welsh: Shut up... stupid wanker... you don't love me... I love YOU... And don't you forget it...**

**'Wanker dúr...' = Irish: Stupid wanker...**


	21. All Saints' Day

Arthur Kirkland

Montreal, Quebec

November 1, 2163

All Saints' Day... Of all the Holidays I enjoyed this the most... that and All Souls' Day... which were one after another on the calender... Two Days that were especially affective for magic, and then there was All Hallows Eve... Three Magical Days, and they were one after another.

To America and the other nations... (other than my brother, Daniel, of course) there was no importance to those three days. But to Daniel, Myself, and all of the Fae... they were the most important days of all.

...If I recalled correctly, this day was the best day for non-life threatening curses. If I recalled correctly... which I usually did.

...If I didn't recall correctly, however... well... that was a different thing entirely. That would be worse than bad... WAY worse.

I took some chalk out of my back pocket and drew a chalk circle on the dark stone slab that rested atop the dark green carpet. I loved my magical heritage... it was not always so endearing... but it was always there for me... unlike someone.

I drew a knife from a sheath that lay alongside the slab, and smiled softly at the familiarly pitted blade, not rusted but blackened with age. "Wreichionen i fyny a gadael yn llosgi, yn gyntaf i weld a olaf i droi... (Spark up and left to burn, first to see the final turn...)" I murmured, reciting the ancient words. _**bloody hell... **_I thought, biting my lip, _**I can't remember the words! **_I had to search my long memory for the words that would reaffirm my oath that I'd taken so many years ago. "Blentyn i mi, os gwelwch yn dda yn gwrando'n dda, mae hyn yn gyfrinach byth rhaid i chi ddweud. Mae Wiciaid y pren tywyllaf, yn cymryd y llw yn cymodlon... (Child of mine, please listen well, this secret you must never tell. The Wiccans of the darkest wood, do take this oath in brotherhood...)"

The starting words had been recited... now to remember the exact words that I had spoken when I took the oath.

I took a deep breath and began to recite the oath, my memory serving me faithfully for once, "...I, Arthur Pendragon, being of the Pagan Faith... Do Solemnly swear to uphold the secret of Magic under penalty of death... If I should dare to break this oath, My Mentor, Mary Elizabeth Kirkland," My heart pained with a twinge of sadness; Mary Elizabeth was dead... "will administer a punishment based on the severity of my infraction... As a Wiccan, the worst possible punishment would be to be burned at the stake as a Witch... On this, the blood of mine own..." I froze for a moment and pressed the tip of the ancient blade to the tip of my finger, wincing as it dug into my finger, "I swear..." I watched as the blood ran down my finger and dripped into the chalk circle.

"_**I am sorry, dear student... but that is not enough blood...**_" said a voice in my head.

I remembered when I had taken the oath.

_**The woman tutted under her breath, 'No, no; this will never do...' she said, looking at the cut on the tip of my finger.**_

_**'What will never do, Teacher?' I asked, looking at her with curious eyes. I had been naught but a boy at that time.**_

_**'That will never get you enough blood to seal the contract. You need more, just to write it, than you've bled, thus far, boy,' She took the sword out of my hand and rested it in her palm... 'A satisfactory blade, to be sure, but, not only are you cutting the wrong place, you aren't cutting deep enough.'**_

_**'I do not understand, Teacher,' I said, cocking my head to one side.**_

_**'You cut either here,' she touched the palm of my hand, 'or here,' she lay two fingers on my wrist. She showed my a scar on the bend of her arm, 'and it has to be deep enough to leave a scar.'**_

I looked at the knife for a moment... then at my bare forearm. I sighed and lifted the blade in my hand, silently praying that no one come to disturb me. I pressed the blade to the bend of my arm and winced as it cut into my flesh. I moaned softly at the pain, and watched as the blood fell into the circle. I just stood there, bleeding, for a moment... maybe two... and the circle sparked up red. I smiled when the circle flashed green and then turned black against the grey stone.

I watched as my blood continued to stream down my arm, dripping off of my fingertips... I was strangely happy... almost giddy... I realized that this could be a valid way to kill myself!

I made an identical cut in the bend of my other arm, slit my palms down the middle, digging deep, and slit my wrists, digging deeper. I grinned as the blood seeped out, covering my arms in the dull red colour of milk mixed with blood. I had been so pale... but now... I was pale AND red... like some strange version of St. George's Cross... Red on white... Hahaha!

I stretched my arm out in front of me and cut a deep, long gash from the top of my arm to halfway to my elbow. I did the same on the other side, and almost started laughing as I thought about how stupid I was for not having considered this sooner!

I couldn't help myself when I finally started laughing and crying at the same time. I didn't know whether to be ashamed or happy! I was finally going to die; that was more than enough to make me laugh seeing as the blood loss had made me light-headed. But I was going to DIE; leave all of my so-called 'friends' and all my siblings behind. Andrew, Daniel, Erin, Alex, Patrick, and Peter... Scotland, Wales, Australia, Ireland, Northern Ireland, and Sealand... My only family. The only one that I would regret leaving was America... but not because I love him! That's Absurd!

The reason that I regret leaving him is that I won't get to see the look on his face when he finds out that I'm dead!

Won't that be an interesting conversation? 'Hey, America! Guess the good news!' 'What is it?' 'England's DEAD' 'Oh, Really?' 'Yeah! Let's go celebrate!' 'Right behind you, dude!'

My god... I need to get a life...

Funny how that occurred to me whilst I'm in the act of DYING, though...

I was dimly aware of someone banging on the door yelling for me to sober up and get out... of someone knocking the door down... of a scream... someone calling for help. Then I blacked out.

When I awoke... I was staring at a white ceiling... so very white... it burned my eyes...

I was cold... but I wasn't bleeding any more... how odd... Heaven is perfection... Hell is fiery... and Purgatory... just _is_... If I was, indeed, dead... I should either be comfortably warm, burning up, or just... dead. I closed my eyes again, after the lights and the ceiling burned me, and a door opened.

"-lucky you found him when you did, Mr Jones; he could've very easily died," said a voice from somewhere off to my right.

"Is Iggy gonna be ok?" asked America's voice which damn near killed me with it's abrupt loudness.

"Yes, he should be waking up soon. Don't be too hard on him, though; you'll have to talk to him yourself if you want to know why."

"Thanks, sir."

I heard the door open again and footsteps going out, I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

America was sitting next to me. He leaned on his hands. "Why did you do it, Iggy?"

"Do What?" I asked, my eyes locked on a tiny crack on the spotless ceiling.

"Try to kill yourself... Why? You know I love you, right? Then why would you do that?"

"Because I don't love YOU. I hate you, Wanker." I looked him dead in the face. "Why did you stop me? And don't say it's because you're the hero. You're not the hero, you stopped me from killing myself, which is what I wanted to do."

"Wha- Why?" Shock covered his face... just like that one time.

"I wanted to die. You just _had_ to go and save me, well, here's a news flash, Wanker; I have a good reason to want to die-"

"Which is what?"

"...I want to watch you suffer... all of you... François, Matthew, Peter, all my brothers... and especially YOU... I want to die so that I can go to meet them..."

"Meet who?"

"My dear Lizzie... and My sweet Jeanne... they went on ahead of me... but eventually... we'll be together again..."

"What the hell? You fell for two of your citizens?"

"They're Elizabeth the first and Joan of Arc, You uncultured Yankee!"

"Who?"

"...You are an idiot. Joan of Arc or... Jeanne D'Arc as was her name in native French... was the only reason that France ever won any battles, aside from those in which Napoleon was involved. She and I... we had... something... but then we had a little... disagreement... and I decided to follow my orders for once. I burned her at the stake... burned her ashes... and dropped her remains into the channel."

"...That's fucking heartless..."

"It's me as a young man, so, you, shut up. Elizabeth was my queen... she never married... in a public way... but she married me. I had visited her, everyday of her imprisonment... and she had slowly warmed up to me... She was my favourite.. and when questioned about why she did not marry... she said 'I am indeed married... I'm married to our dear England'... She was the best queen... pity that she was succeeded by that bastard, James... I suspect that you only remember George the third, he was the king that took your freedom, but James was the king when I first met you; he was not a good king. I almost wish he'd never ruled..."

"Why?"

"Because, then I would never have met you... and you would've been raised by France... and _maybe_ I would've been able to kill my self in peace."

"B-but, Iggy... w-where did you even get that knife anyway?"

"From my brother, Daniel... He's a smart one, love... he knows when I need to lose some blood..."

"What?"

"I was doing a ritual... and then I decided... 'Fuck it; I'll just die.'" I said, smiling slightly.

America smacked me across my face, glaring at me with tears in his eyes. "You bastard; Don't you know that we care about you?"

"Oh, so, you Wankers actually care about me?" I asked, mockingly, hearing the insanity in my own voice.

"Yeah, we do!"

"You care, huh? Where were you wankers, my so-called 'friends', when Peter started starving me?" I challenged.

"Bu-"

I cut him off, "Where were you when he would beat me until I couldn't move?" I persisted.

"We wer-"

I interrupted him again, "Where were you when I cried myself to sleep?"

"Yeah, bu-"

I was determined not to let him speak, "Where were you when I prayed for someone to come and help me? Where were you when I gave up on God? Where were you when I decided to let him kill me? Where were you when he _raped_ me, Wanker?"

"I mean, I-"

"You are no hero. You _didn't_ save me when I _needed_ to be saved, and you _did_ save me when I _didn't_ need saving."

"DAMMIT, IGGY!" America shouted. "JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME TALK FOR ONE MINUTE!"

I glared at him but fell silent.

"We didn't know. I didn't find out until right after he raped you, Iggy... I was the first... except for Canada and Egypt, I was the first to notice." America said, reaching out for my hand. I barely felt it when he closed his hands around mine. "I don't want you to die... You're mine, Iggy... and I'm your's... If you died... it would break my heart..."

"Like I care about your heart..." I said, lying half-heartedly.

"You do care."

"I don't," I said. I stared at the ceiling, "I never cared about you... It was all about the land... Always..." there. That was the one thing that I had forbidden myself from saying. Not at all true... but still... if delivered properly... "I never loved you. Bloody Hell, I never even liked you; you were just another colony to be ruled over... just a patch of land to be taxed... never even meant to last... You weren't important to me at all; why do you think that I left all the time...? It's because I was ashamed that you didn't know your place."

America squeezed my hand, "You're lying."

"No, I'm not." Yes, I was. I was lying to push him away... now to see if it works...

"You do care. Otherwise, you wouldn't be arguing."

"I don't care. Shut up and get bent, Wanker."

"No, thanks."

"Get out, you ass. I want to at least spend my time in the hospital in peace, please."

"Fine... I'll send Canada in... he freaked when he found out that you'd tried to kill yourself, by the way."

I groaned; Canada was going to KILL me.

"Hey, I know that he's no hero, but he's my brother!"

"I prefer him to you. I'm groaning because I _want_ to sleep. I don't want to get yelled at, or grumbled at, or argued with... I want to sleep."

"Fine, Iggy," America said, heading for the door, "I'll tell him that you fell asleep again."

"Goodbye, America..." As he shut the door, I added, "I love you..."


	22. Suicide Note

Alfred F Jones

Montreal, Quebec

November 2, 2163

"Good Morning, Yankee," said a tall man with dark blond hair and a scar through one eye. He looked at me and seemed to size me up. "No wonder he hasn't given you it yet; you're nothing but a boy." His voice was deep and his accent was so thick that I could barely understand him.

It was another world meeting day and England was still in the hospital. Since Peter was the 'official' representative of the united kingdom and he was in jail, and England was the backup and was in the hospital, England had called in his sister... unfortunately she hadn't arrived yet.

However... his brother, who I had briefly met at a previous world meeting, arrived FIRST. Thus, the reason for the appraising blond.

He had the same brows as Iggy and was huge. Not just tall, but BUILT. His eyes were a dark brown that clashed with his blond hair and his face was covered in scars. I was still watching him when the door opened.

"Good Morning, All," said a voice that sounded exactly like England's voice. I turned and stared at the source of the voice. It turned out to be... a young man with short flaming red hair that hung around his ears cut in a bob... like Hong Kong's. In fact... he looked like an iggy-fied Hong Kong without the eyebrows! His eyes were the same shade of green as England's and he seemed to be... a carbon copy of England.

"Good Morning, Alex," Said the blond in front of me, nodding his head in acknowledgment. "Found Sasana's little plaything. The buachaill's too young for 'im."

"Oh, really? Hmm... Well, Maybe. Cymru told me and Albain that Sasana was in the Hospital; did you know that, brother?"

"No, I didn't... tell Cymru that I'm glad that he let me in on it," sarcasm dripped from the tall blond's words, just like with England's.

They lowered their voices and continued to speak until France came in. He immediately hugged the young man around his slim shoulders and the man/boy screamed loudly, his voice shooting up an octave.

"Get the bloody hell off me, you damn frog! Let GO!" he struggled and then cried out, "Deartháir, CABHAIR!"

"Ag teacht, Deirfiúr! Lig di dul, is féidir leat fuilteacha Francach!" shouted the blond, dragging France off of the young man and wrestling him to the ground. In a matter of seconds, France was lying face-down on the ground with an angry British guy on his back.

"Ow, ow, OW! Merde, get off! OW!" France said, face down on the carpet. The tall blond got off of him and grinned evilly.

"Mess with Alex again... and I'll fucking kill you, francach..." The Blonde said.

"Patty!" The young man said, glaring darkly at the blond, "...I can fight my own battles, now, brother."

"...Sasana could... but look where he is; in the hospital over cutting himself," the Blond scoffed. "...and it was for a ritual... Cymru gave Sasana the blade, and some idiot took the blade from him; I'll kill that wanker for it. Of all of Sasana's things, why did it have to be that blade? It's not even his! It was Mistress Mary's blade, and, now, it's gone!"

"...it was Cymru's blade... she left it to him."

"...no... she didn't leave it to Cymru... I lied... She left it to Sasana."

"...You need to tell him... He's believed since she died and left him nothing, that she didn't care about him. You realize that he has no friends, right, brother? Without Mistress Mary, he had nobody, and I bet that you don't care. You don't care. You wanna know how I know? Gan chara Sasana; you were the first one to call him that, brother. Gan chara Sasana, Digyfaill Lloegr, Sans amis Angleterre, Sin amigos Inglaterra, Anglia amicorum, Amico meno Inghilterra, Odinokim Anglii... No matter what Language it is, it always translates the same; Friendless England! I'm bleeding sick of it!"

"...Calm, Alex."

"Bloody fuck, Pattie. Everyone calls him the same thing, and they wonder why he decided to kill himself rather than just stopping at one cut! It makes me sick to think that he actually cares what they think!"

By this time all of the other nations had come in and were staring at the Iggy look-alike with red hair. They were also eavesdropping (sort of) on the conversation.

"Do you know which two actually cared when he was found half-dead in his room? The one who found him and the one who tried to talk him out of it! They're brothers, might I add, and they both care about Sasana! ONE of them is part of the reason that Sasana just kept cutting and the other... I don't know about him; he's weird. Do you remember back when he was crying for weeks at a time?"

"How Could I forget, love? He was crying non-stop and was too upset to even fight with me; what of it?"

"...the one who found him?"

"Yes?"

"That one is the reason that he was crying-"

Before he even finished the sentence, I was being lifted off the ground by the front of my shirt. I freaked out when I found that it was Iggy's older brother who was lifting me off the ground. I stared into his eyes and he spoke in slow, carefully articulated English. He glared at me, "You're the bastard that made Sasana cry? I'd been wondering who it was for a while, now." He raised me a little higher. "So, why'd ya do it?"

"Do what...?"

"Break his heart. He cried for weeks in our time... Years in human time. He withdrew from the rest of the world... He had ruled the seas... until YOU came along and broke him. Why'd ya do it?" He brought me down in front of his face.

I gagged at the smell of his breath. Rancid potatoes; GROSS! I glared into his eyes, "Dude, there's this amazing little thing... it's called a BREATH-MINT!" I shouted into his face.

He dropped me on my ass and walked back to the iggy-look-alike. He whispered something in the guy's ear and the guy looked at me, a bit confused.

The look-alike came over and offered me his hand, I took it and he pulled me to my feet.

"You're a brave kid. Too young to be fighting with Pattie, but still rather brave."

I blushed, "N-naw, it was just what I usually do."

"Well, I like you. Not even to steal you from Sasana, of course, but still; I like you. My name's Alex Kirkland, Northern Ireland."

"Umm... I'm Alfred F Jones, The United States of America." I stuck my hand out and he shook it.

"Ah, so you're America? Didn't know that. Well I should probably say that, while I do like you, what you did to Sasana was just plain evil. He loved you wholeheartedly and you broke his fragile heart. In fact... if you really think about it... you're the reason that he tried to kill himself."

"W-What do you mean?"

"It's rather simple... You were the only person who Little brother ever loved, and you left him. He tries to be strong and act like he doesn't care, but we can see it in his eyes... his brothers and I... We can all see his emotions in his eyes. Andrew, Pattie, Erin, Danny, and Me; We all knew from the moment that he came home that he was broken. You were his only friend; Friendless England's only friend. And when you left... He gave up. He gave up on ever having friends... of ever falling in love... and it was ALL YOUR FAULT."

"...I know..." I said, staring into those green eyes that were so much like Iggy's. "I screwed up. I wanted my freedom so bad that I just... I hurt him... without meeting on the battlefield any time but the last battle... I hurt him... every shot that my people took against the british soldiers... He felt every shot. He felt every one of my victories... and I... I just... I didn't care."

"...it wasn't just him... we all felt it..." the young man glared into my eyes. "We all felt it physically, but only Sasana felt it that hard. Mentally, Emotionally, Physically, Psychologically... He's the one that you hurt."

The guy walked over to a different guy who also had thick caterpillar eyebrows, only with blondish brown hair and olive colored eyes, and they started talking.

"Amerika-san..." I turned and found my good friend, Japan. Once he saw that he had my attention, he continued to speak, "Doitsu-san said that he is canceling today's meeting because Igirisu-san is in the hospital and cannot be here today. Also, Kita airurando-kun is not used to meetings such as these; Ōsutoraria-san requested that the meetings be suspended until Igirisu-san is out of the hospital. He is very protective of her."

"Wait, Northern Ireland? I just met him," I said, mildly confused.

"Iie, Kita airurando-kun is female. She is Igirisu-san's younger sister," Japan clarified.

"That can't be right... Northern Ireland's a guy named Alex Kirkland."

"Iie. Kita airurando-kun is female. Her human name is Alexandra Kirkland, or Alex Kirkland for short."

"I'm an idiot," I said.

"Anata wa bakadesu." Japan said.

My phone buzzed and I answered it, "Hello?"

"Mr Jones, the patient that you brought to us yesterday evening has disappeared. We have no idea where he could be, but he left a letter that said to call you and tell you... 'Ontario's waiting with a secret.'"

"FUCK!" I shouted. I had to go find Ontario and get whatever it was from him. Iggy used to play these games all the time; leave a letter telling someone to contact me with a message. The message would say that a city was waiting with a secret, and I would go and get the clue from the embodiment of whichever city it was. I would follow the clue to the next clue and the next clue, eventually finding Iggy back where he had been before he started the game. Unfortunately, I had no idea where he'd been before the game started... he might've been in the bathroom, or somewhere else.

I ran out of the meeting room, out of the hotel and found Ontario talking to Montreal outside.

"DUDE!" I yelled, tackling Ontario.

"What the Hell?" the teen city shouted, "Fuck, America, you're heavy! Take the letter and get outta my life, Hoser!"

I took the letter from the teen and opened the envelope. My heart dropped out of my chest; I was supposed to go straight back into the hotel... and up to my room.

'Dear America,

Please get together the following people and then go to your hotel room with them.

France, Spain, Northern Ireland, and Canada'

_**FUUUUUUUUCK!**_ I thought, crushing the letter in my fist as I went to get the other nations.

They all came willingly, and we went up to my room. I found a small envelope made of heavy paper with Arthur's Initials on it...

_**Arthur's personal stationary...?**_ I thought, wracking my brain, trying to remember when the last time I'd seen it. My eyes widened when I realized... _**I haven't seen that stationary since I was just a colony...**_

Tearing the envelop open, A sheet of parchment (is that the right word? Parchment?) fell out of the envelope. There were 5 messages in 4 languages on the sheet and we all read it... I read all of it that I could understand...

_'America, I'll wait for you... beyond the gate. I'll be waiting forever..._

_Until the day you come..._

_If I cherish the letters that you wrote me... all those years ago... if I love them, deep inside my heart... I'll meet you again, someday..._

_France, Nous ne pouvons pas s'entendaient très bien jusqu'à maintenant, mais je voulais vous dire que depuis que j'ai tué Jeanne. (France, We may not have gotten along very well until now, but I've wanted to tell you this since I killed Jeanne.)_

_Désolé... (Sorry...)_

_J'ai été un idiot qui ne sait pas quand s'arrêter... mais maintenant... avant de mourir... Je veux dire... (I was an idiot who didn't know when to stop... but now... before I die... I want to say...)_

_Vous avez eu raison. (You were right.)_

_Je n'ai pas d'amis… Je n'ai jamais eu d'amis... Personne ne m'aime comme ils vous aiment. (I have no friends... I've never had any friends... No one likes me like they like you.)_

_...Prendre soin d'eux pour moi… bien? (...take care of them for me... alright?)_

_Mo Deirfiúr daor, Tá brón orm go raibh mé den sórt sin a asal... scaradh leat as Éirinn mar sin._

_Lig dom é a dhéanamh suas go dtí leat... Tá mé ag a thabhairt duit Sasana, mo dheirfiúr daor... Ní bheidh mé a bheith de dhíth orthu a thuilleadh._

_Tá tú saor in aisce a fhágáil ar an Ríocht Aontaithe, ach smaoineamh liom go mbeadhsé i bhfad níos mó siamsaíocht gan mé ann._

_Feicfidh mé chailleann tú…_

_España, lo siento que se lucha tanto... (Spain, I'm sorry that I fight you so much...)_

_Podríamos haber llegado realmente a lo largo de... Si no hubiera sido tan idiota. (We could've really gotten along... If I hadn't been such an asshole.)_

_Quiero que guarde esta Carta a un secreto de Texas, para que lo sepas... pero tengo algo importante que decirte. (I want you to keep this letter a secret from Texas, just so you know... but I have something important to tell you.)_

_Texas es su hijo, no la mía, y ciertamente no de Estados Unidos. (Texas is your son; not mine and certainly NOT America's.)_

_Te mentí cuando dije que era mi hijo… Fue el de todo el tiempo. No es que él sabe, por supuesto... (I lied to you when I said that he was my child... He was your's the whole time. Not that he knows, of course...)_

_Ver más de mis nietos para mí... son tus, así, después de todo. (Watch over my Grandkids for me... they're your's, as well, after all.)_

_Canada, You were always my favorite... but I can't follow your wishes._

_Don't try to bring me back... and, please, find someone else to love._

_Russia's had his eyes on you for a while now... you should give him a chance, because it's rare that one finds another that is so similar to one's self and that loves one so wholeheartedly..._

_Protect America from the woes of the world... he's too naive to face them alone._

_...And one last thing to my dear America..._

_I love you...'_

I felt my heart breaking...

"A suicide note..." France said, staring at the parchment. "L'Angleterre is going to try and kill himself again..."

"Not if I can stop him," I said, masking my heartbreak as best I could.

* * *

**A/N~ Well... that was... painful to write. The words that he writes to America actually came from a song I heard recently, Paper Plane (Kagamine Rin).**

**The words were those of Len, and they were: Matsu yo. Itsu made mo ma~tsu teru yo! Kimi ga kuru sono hi made, Tegami o daiji ni nakusazu ni itara, mata aemasu yo ne? (I'll wait. I'll wait for you forever! Until that day when you come back, If I don't lose you precious letters that I have, We'll meet again, alright?)**

**Needless to say, I changed them, to suit my needs and the situation better.**

**It killed me writing this, so I hope that it created some suspense, seeing as it ended with a cliffhanger and all. Review so that I can find out you guys' opinions on it and make it a better story [I love getting feedback... especially suggestions].**

**Also, I'm considering some possible endings for this story and I'm putting a poll on my profile so that you guys can vote on them...**


	23. Rebirth of a Nation

Arthur Kirkland

Vancouver, British Columbia

November 2, 2163

Never was I so glad that Nations could go thousands of miles in a matter of seconds, as I was that day. I was very much enjoying my little game and planned to give America and the others a time span of 5 days to find me, seeing as it would take a human in a car 53 hours to get to this place anyway.

Matthew would, without a doubt, be the first to find me. I was still in Canada, after all. I wondered if it was a tad unwise of me to be in Canada while waiting to be found, but I decided that if one has to hide in plain sight, where better to hide than in British Columbia? There was a lovely hotel... and it was cheap as well. I'd booked a room and travelled all the way across Canada to get here, to enjoy my last days... if they were indeed to be my last days.

...I wondered if they actually cared enough to come find me... or to try to. _**Maybe this is a gigantic waste of time... **_I thought, staring off into space,_** maybe I should just end it now and not even give them the satisfaction of keeping me from my fate...**_

I shook my head, _**No, I'm sure that they're looking for me right now...**_

The next five days passed without incident and before I knew it... it was midnight on November 8th. My heart twisted as I realized that they didn't care... none of them cared if I died. Not even America... the Wanker had told me that he loved me... was that a lie as well...?

My heart was breaking... it had broken once and I'd gathered all the broken pieces together and fixed my poor heart... but now... it was falling apart... breaking again... never to be repaired...

I heard it crack... I felt it break... I let myself fall onto the bed and I could almost see the shattered remains of my poor fragile heart.

...suddenly I felt tired... just... completely exhausted. I closed my eyes... and my world was gone.

I awoke to someone calling my name... or rather, calling one of my names.

"Lloegr… wake up, bach yr un..." said a voice. It sounded like Mistress Mary's voice... but it wasn't her... she was long dead, that woman. I cracked my eyes open just a bit and stared into a pair of milky bluish green eyes.

I felt so tired... just wanted to sleep... My heart hurt... but I couldn't remember why... I just couldn't. I closed my eyes again.

My dreams were black... but they were dreams instead of just sleep... A refreshing change. Suddenly, I realized that I was in a dark dirty room that reeked of rotting corpses, vile surroundings and burning flesh... I heard voices on the other side of the door.

"This one was strong but not all there mentally," commented a voice.

"In what way?" asked another.

"Oh, he has some nasty opinions of our fuhrer," said the first voice, "and he keeps threatening Herr Ludwig."

"Not at all there... to do both and expect not to die? Ludicrous, ja?"

"Ja, it's not often that you find an idiot who has the guts to insult the fuhrer and threaten Herr Ludwig."

"...still... it's quite a loss."

"Ja, he keeps to himself, reads the atmosphere and refrains from speaking. He's strong and doesn't eat much."

"What? Did he somehow eat _less_ than what we were giving him?"

"Ja."

"Let's get this over with, then..."

I heard a weird sound and I had a sinking feeling that I was going to die there.

I was in the grungy room for about a minute when my chest started hurting... like it was being squeezed. I could hardly breath and I curled up into a ball as my vision went blurry. I felt tears burning in my eyes at the pain... _**Shit... **_I thought as the pain became unbearable, _**I'm going to die here...**_

With my voice a hoarse whisper that sound harsh even to me, and barely enough breath to blow out a candle, I whispered, "...If this is the end for me..." I gasped breathlessly, "...all I want... is a chance to tell him that..." I coughed raggedly, my blood spattering onto the already dirty floor, "...I-I... I lo-..." I closed my eyes tight, "I LOVE HIM! I CAN'T DIE YET! HE'S WAITING FOR ME!" I dragged my body to the door that I'd been shoved into the room through, and used it to force myself to my feet. I started banging as hard as I could crying and screaming but before I knew it I was-

I opened my eyes and was surprised to find myself lying on the hotel room bed, not dying at all. I couldn't believe that I still remembered that... that day.

I had died before as a human... and that was one of the times that I had been killed as a human. I had been put in a concentration camp for being Gay (which at the time, I was; back then, you either were or weren't). Ludwig had been the one who'd dragged my dead body out of the gas room, and my memories of that day were not exactly accurate, seeing as I died that day. It was the first time that I'd said that I loved Alfred...

I felt my eyes fill with tears, but I wiped them away and I went into the bathroom, carrying a small sharp pocket knife.

This time, I had given them enough time to stop me... they'd wasted it.

Last time, I had wasted my time with useless cutting (that I knew wouldn't kill me) before I actually did any major, life-threatening cuts.

This time, I wouldn't do that... I would just do the cuts before I gave too much thought to why they didn't come.

I started at my collar bone and began cutting along the bone, in places that the muscles didn't block the way. I just smiled as I bled, watching as my blood hit the tiles.

_**'Good night, Mr Britain, sir~...'**_

"Good night, America... My brave little soldier..."

_**'See you later, um... Britain, sir...'**_

"I sincerely hope so... My dear Canada..."

_**'I love you, Arthur~!'**_

"...and I love you, America..." I could no longer suppress my tears... I slit my throat and fell to my knees, sobbing.

The world went black.

I heard someone murmuring and I tried to open my eyes. They wouldn't open...

Someone laughed a little, "it's just like Bach Brawd to keep us waiting like this..."

"Are you sure that he's still alive? He looks pretty dead to me."

"Shut up, Sealand..."

_**Sea... land...? **_I thought, feeling like an idiot.

I forced my eyes open and, for some reason... I was staring into a pair of sky blue eyes. My eyes widened when I recognized the face of my eldest brother, Wales.

"B-beth?" I said, mentally cursing myself for my not so good Welsh.

"Cymru, actually," Wales said, snickering.

"Be silent..." I said. I sighed, "Leave me be..."

"No... Sealand found you in a bathroom bleeding to death; I don't think that you're going to be alone for a while."

"Who is this... Sealand?" I asked.

"Beth? How could you not know who SEALAND is?" Wales asked, disbelief all over his face, "He was your last Colony!"

"Say Again? A former Colony? I've not met this man in my life."

"Eh? But, I-... I mean-... that is-... B-but... Wha-...?" asked the tall young man in front of me. I stared at his face and almost felt like I knew him... almost. He looked like me... only his hair was smoother and paler blond, his eyes were blue rather than emerald like mine, and, of course, he was taller than me. He was... probably 187 centimetres if I had to guess.

"I know not who thou art, however, it seems to me that thou hast lost something. Wouldst thou care to tell me what it might be?" I felt like being nice to this young man... it felt good to be nice.

"...I lost my mind a while ago but I don't really know if what I'm seeing is reality or not..."

"Pray tell... why wouldst that be?"

"Because you're not the same England that everyone else knows... not the same England as the one that I've known since I was small..."

"...hmm... I know not how to respond to that... It seems to me that I have never met thee... however if thou insist that I do indeed know thee..." I smiled at him. "Then, I shall count you as my friend..."

Wales left after a while and I spoke to the young man... the one who was called Sealand. We talked for hours and I asked him about his life... seeing as I couldn't remember. After a while, he mentioned someone named America... the name scraped at my heart but I couldn't figure out why. I shook it off and Sealand asked me to help him with something... he asked me if I would go with him to something called... a World Meeting. He told me that he had been shunned by the other Countries and I felt sorry for him. I said that I would and he told me that I would have to talk more like he did... because the phrasing that I was using was rather old.

He re-taught me English... and I began to trust him... just because he was there... and he was my friend.

"...Sealand...?" I asked, testing my grasp of the new phrasing. He looked up from what he'd been doing and smiled at me.

"What is it, England?"

"What is your human name?" I inquired, nervous for some reason.

"Peter... it's Peter Kirkland..."

"Can I... call you 'Peter'?" ...it was a very intimate gesture... to call a fellow nation by their first name... and not a gesture that I took lightly.

"Of course, Engla- Arthur." He smiled again and I felt like a blushing school girl. He had given his permission... and asked for mine at the same time.

"Thank you, Love-" I flushed scarlet; the words had come out strange and I'd picked up his weird usage of the word.

"It's no trouble..."

I yawned softly, almost subconsciously.

Sealand noticed, "Ah... I'm going to leave now, so that you can get some sleep... good night, Poppet... I'll see you in the morning..." he walked out and I fell asleep with thoughts of him sweeping across my mind...

Not such a bad thought... that maybe I could stay with this one for a while.

**A/N~ Okay, before you guys say 'Ohmaigawd, you promised USUK; why is there SeaUK here?' I'll say that... this is not going to end well for Sealand. He's not getting anything out of this except for some broken bones and (possibly) full body radiation burns; America is very... possessive of Iggy (at least the way that I write him) and he will be kicking Sealand's ass.**

**Why?**

**Because America is awesome like that, and, the way that I write Sealand, the bastard will break England's heart, causing America to get pissed off.**

**As always, reviews=love, so please give me some so that I can be motivated to continue this story... I'm serious; this thing has like... a 67% chance of being discontinued, so it's existence hinges on reviews, at the moment.**

**TRANSLATIONS~**

**'Cymru'- Wales (Welsh)**

**'Lloegr'- England (Welsh)**

**'Beth?'- What? (Welsh)**

**I know not who thou art, however, it seems to me that thou hast lost something.- I don't know who you are, but you seem like you've lost something. (Ye Olde Englishe)**

**Wouldst thou care to tell me what it might be?- Would you care to tell me what it is? (Ye Olde Englishe)**

**I know not how to respond to that...- I don't know what to say... (Ye Olde Englishe)**

**It seems to me that I have never met thee... however if thou insist that I do indeed know thee... then, I shall count you as my friend...- I don't think that I've ever met you... but if you say that I do know you... I'll call you my friend... (Ye Olde Englishe)**


	24. Kagome Kagome

I do own:

1) this story

2) The Sea's Bounty (the Ship that England is the captain of) and it's crew

I don't own:

1) Vocaloids

2) APH

3) The game, Kagome Kagome

4) The English Language (though, I do own my usage of it)

* * *

Alfred F Jones

Montreal, Quebec

December 1, 2163

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. If I tried, I would've hated what I saw.

England was talking with Sealand... and he was smiling and blushing. He never did that with **me**... not since I was a little kid. It ticked me off that he was smiling and laughing with the bastard who raped him; Sealand didn't deserve his beautiful smile.

When Sealand saw me staring at him and England, he walked over and smiled down on me. He spoke with a friendly and polite tone, "Hullo, America."

"Hey, Sealand," I said, forcing myself to smile at him, "What's up?"

"Oh, just hanging out with Iggy," he said, smiling brightly. He laughed and put his hand on my forehead. "isn't it funny how you never know what you've got 'til it's gone?"

"Oh, Fuck off, Sealand," I said, glaring up at him.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you. Dear Iggy's lost all of his memories. He remembers neither you, nor me... I just had the privilege of being the one that he saw first."

"Wha- Why?" I was shocked; how could he have forgotten me?

"He died, Fucktard. Killed himself; slit his wrists in the bathroom and kept cutting until he was covered in blood."

"I- I... But, I-"

"There was a letter in his room. It said that you had 3 days to find him and 2 to reach him. It took me all of 1 to find him and less to reach him. On the letter... it said that... if you didn't come to save him within the allotted time... he was going to kill himself."

"Then why isn't he dead?"

"He's a nation, Fucktard, not a bloody human," Sealand said, glaring at me. His gaze softened, "He really loved you... but he felt like you didn't love him back and he killed himself... it was probably my fault, as well... but I'm making this right; I'm going to keep him from falling in love with you again... and I'm going to stop him from getting his heart broken."

I stared at him, possibly more shocked at what he'd said than I was at the fact that England had forgotten me.

He smiled one last time and walked back over to England who looked over at me, recognition briefly shining in his Deep Green eyes. He said something to Sealand, smiled and walked over to me.

"Good Morning," he said, his tone cheerful. He smiled at me brightly.

"...um... Good Morning, Igg- England..." I had stopped myself from using the nickname.

"You would be America, yes?" He asked. His eyes were curious but his tone was polite. He blushed a little, "You're taller than I thought you'd be..."

"Huh?" I asked, confused by his comment.

"Oh, Sealand told me a little bit about you. He told me that you weren't as tall as he is," England paused here. I realized that I was WAY shorter than Sealand was; somehow, he'd outgrown me, "and I assumed that you were only a little taller than me."

"Well... it's okay, I guess." I grinned at him, "Sealand told me how you lost your memories; so, how far back do you remember?"

"I remember... being a Captain on a Pirate ship... the Sea's bounty. I remember Jeanne... and I remember my Love, My Dear Lizzie*... I also remember a civil war... between My mother's Family** and My father's Family***... I remember the war ending when they were married... I remember every year up until about... 1603."

"Hmm... that was after I first met Europeans... but before I met you..." I commented.

England laughed a little, "You seem like a nice guy."

"I could say the same to you," I snickered.

"Maybe we could talk, later on, and you could tell me more about my lost memories..." He suggested.

I grinned, "I'd like that. Maybe, afterward, we could go-"

I was cut off by Sealand, "He's busy." The taller nation gave me a glare that said, 'I'm not letting you have him back, so don't even try to steal him from me...'

"B-but, Peter-" England began, protesting feebly.

"No. You're too busy to hang out with him." I recognized the phrasing almost as soon as the words escaped his mouth.

Almost without thinking, I slugged the younger nation across the face, decking him flat out the moment my fist connected with his cheekbone.

_**'He's too busy to hang out with you right now, dear Alfred...' the other nation had said when he had (discretely) taken over the UK and I had asked him if I could talk to Arthur.**_

I sat on the other nation's chest and stuck my foot in his face. A universally (at least among the nations) accepted gesture that meant, 'fuck you and the horse you rode in on'. I smiled ruefully, "He may be 'yours'... but there is no way in hell that you're going to make him say no... before I even ask," I pressed my foot harder into his face, causing him to wake up.

"And what do you think you're doing? Playing the hero, again? Would you care for me to tell England about something? You remember, don't you? It's something he doesn't remember... but something important to both him and your fat ass."

I stiffened, "You wouldn't dare..." I got off of him and took a few steps back.

"I most certainly would," he smirked. "Arthur, come here, dear," he beckoned the older, smaller nation over to him. He smiled in a way that could be called friendly or cheerful, but was truly neither of the two; it was a dark evil smile that had often graced the lips of my former enemy/ally/frenemy, Russia. So innocent and childlike and yet... so evil and oppressing at the same time.

England walked over to us, a slightly bewildered expression on his face. Sealand got up and cupped England's face in his hands. England made no attempt to stop him.

"Dear Arthur... I've not been entirely truthful with you... when I said that you and America were not friendly... I was lying... You were at one point but then America did something horrible..." Sealand said, a (fake) sad expression on his face.

"W-what was it?" England asked, worry covering his pale face.

"...He was your Colony once..." Sealand said, his tone forlorn and his eyes sad.

"Really...? What happened?"

"...He charmed you with his cute face... his cheerful smile... his false love... his fake promises. He charmed your heart away and then he smashed it... crushed it between his young hands..."

"Why would he do that?" England said, tears in his eyes.

"Because he didn't want to be with you!"

England's eyes went wide and he said, barely loud enough to be heard, "I feel it... it's breaking... it hurts..." he fell to his knees, tears streaming out of his eyes. For a moment his voice had sounded like it had when I was a colony, but I put it out of my mind. I grabbed Sealand by the front of his shirt and dragged him down to my level.

"You broke his heart... AGAIN," I said, glaring into the cold blue eyes. I smiled in a way that I couldn't remember ever having smiled, "and for that I'm going to destroy you..."

I was going to teach that over-confident ass that you don't mess with the United States and get away with it. My gaze fell on England and I lifted him in my arms, bridal style, careful not to make him even more upset. I carried the empire... no, the nation... that had once taken care of me, because he was upset and had been (not too gently) reminded of when I became independent. I glared at Sealand and left the room with the other nation in my arms.

England sobbed against my chest, almost hysterical, and I just held him close, trying to comfort him without being awkward. When he finally stopped crying, he said in a quiet voice, "...was he telling the truth...?"

"...No."

"...are you lying to me...?"

"Never."

"...why did you leave me... if you didn't do it because you don't like me...?"

"I-I wanted to prove that I was strong... and it worked. I became my own country and proved that I could take care of you like you took care of me, but... I had pushed you away in the process. You, the very reason that I wanted to be independent, were turned away in my efforts to become what I wanted to be."

England was silent but motioned for me to continue.

"After the revolution, you avoided me... I wanted to talk to you, but you ignored all my letters..." I paused for a moment, remembering what had happened, "I ended up having to send France letters... and asking in to check in on you... because you had told me to never come to England... and you didn't go out anymore..." I trailed off here.

"I hate France... but that's smart of you to think of that," England said, smiling a bit.

_**Well, that's different... **_I thought, returning his smile almost without thinking. **_He usually calls me stupid..._**

"You have a nice smile..." England observed, blushing a little.

"I could say the same for you... you need to smile more," I said, grinning at him.

We talked some and I got roped into a walk in the park. I talked some more, but England wasn't really listening. He was watching Japan play with his 'Children'. They weren't even his children; they were weird singing robot things. Two with blond hair, one with blue, one with green, and one with red.

"Kagome- Kagome-, Kago-no-naka-no-Tori-wa, Itsu- Itsu- de aru? Yoake no ban ni, Tsuru-to-kame-to-subetta. Ushiro-no-shoumen daare?" Japan sang with the children, instantly catching England's attention. "Kagome- Kagome- a-tiny-bird-trapped-within-the-cage. When, oh, when will you get out? In the evening of the dawn, the-Crane-and-the-turtle-slipped-and-fell, Who-is-that-behind you?"

"What are they doing?" England asked me.

"Singing and playing, I guess..." I said, shrugging.

"Can we play, too?" He asked, suddenly.

"But there's a meeting." I said, fully aware of the fact that the meeting was already going on.

"Why can't we play?" He asked, his eyes begging.

I sighed and gave in, "...come on; we'll ask if we can play."

Just as I said that, Japan waved at us. "Come play Kagome Kagome with us," he said, smiling over the head of the blue haired robot thing.

England practically dragged me over to them and bounced on his toes as Japan told us the rules. One person is 'IT', and they stand in the middle, wearing a blindfold. The others make a circle around the person who's 'IT' and start spinning, everyone singing at once. When they reach the end of the song they stop and the person who's 'IT' has to guess who's behind them. Japan nominated the blue haired boy-robot-thing to be 'IT', and took one of my hands. The little green haired girl-robot-thing took the other, taking one of England's hands in her free hand as everyone joined hands around the circle.

"Um... I don't know the words..." I said.

"We sing it twice; once in Japanese, and once in English. You only need to sing one," Japan said politely, "We sing slowly so that we can all sing together; just follow along."

"Okay, I guess..." I said.

"Kagome- Kagome-, Kago-no-naka-no-Tori-wa, Itsu- Itsu- de aru? Yoake no ban ni, Tsuru-to-kame-to-subetta. Ushiro-no-shoumen daare?" The Others sang as everyone in the circle spun. A short pause and then they started again and I joined in, followed by England. "Kagome- Kagome- a-tiny-bird-trapped-within-the-cage. When, oh, when will you get out? In the evening of the dawn, the-Crane-and-the-turtle-slipped-and-fell, Who-is-that-behind you?"

We all stopped and the blue haired boy said, "...Miku-chan is behind me."

"Miku, are you behind KAITO?" Japan said, his voice quieter than usual.

The green haired girl grinned and said, "Hai, Otou-sama."

"KAITO, Miku is the Oni, now," He smiled as the two children traded places and the game continued.

We played until well after the meeting was over, and I'd lost twice. I'd learned all the children's names and England had enjoyed himself. The two oldest, The Red haired Girl named MEIKO and The Blue haired Boy named KAITO, walked over to England. They said something in Japanese that I didn't quite catch.

"What are they saying?" England asked.

"They said that they have been learning English from Leon, Lola, Luka-san, and Miriam, and that they want to try to speak English with you. If you're going to, you should start with words that they know. I would suggest using words that pertain directly to them."

"Such as?"

"They're robotic voices."

"Oh..." England said. He knelt and spoke slowly (obviously trying not to mispronounce a word since it had been almost 200 years since he'd spoken Japanese) to the children, "Anata wa karera mo eigo o hanasu koto ga dekiru yō ni ue ni yūjin o motarasu koto wa dekimasu ka? (Can you bring your friends over so that they can speak English, too?)"

"Hai," they said in unison. The children gathered together except for the girl with blonde hair.

"Communication," England said, his tone like the voice someone would use to talk to a 5 year old.

"Komyunikēshon?" The gathered children said, an upwards lilt to their voices.

"Synthesizer."

"S-sinsesaizaa." The blond haired boy seemed to be tasting the word on his tongue.

"Nice to meet you~."

"Oh, H-herō!"

"Igirisu o hanasemasu ka? (Do you speak English?)"

"Iesu, Iesu! I am very good at it!" The little blond boy took the initiative (even if he wasn't very good), "B-bah-nah-nah!"

"Oh, Banana!" England responded with much enthusiasm.

"O-rahn-ji?"

"Orange."

"...Rou-do Ro-ra?" the blond asked nervously.

"Road-roller?" England asked.

"Sā, Sā; Rou-do Ro-ra!" The boy said, grinning.

"Oh! Roadroller!" England said as if he finally got it.

"Roadroller!"

"Len, Nande no?" asked the blonde girl, walking over to England and the blond boy.

"Oh! Rin! Let me introduce you!"

"Eh?" The girl's English was (possibly) worse than the boy's, so I don't think she understood him.

"Rin, kore wa āsā kākurandodesu. Kare ni Kiku o shitte iru. (Rin, this is Arthur Kirkland. He knows Kiku.)"

"Āsā Kākurando?"

"Nice to meet you~," he shook her hand, smiling brightly.

"H-herō!"

"Igirisu o hanasemasu ka?"

"Bah-nana?"

"Banana."

"O-ranji?"

"Orange."

"R-roudo rora?"

"Roadroller~." England said.

The two blonds (is that the right spelling? One Blond and one Blonde is Blonds, right?) spoke back and forth saying the same words and laughing.

Japan led the children away, smiling fondly. The park was empty by then which meant that me and England were alone together.

He smiled brightly and waved after the children, but as soon as they were out of sight, he sighed. His smiled dimmed and he said, "I really am an old man..."

"No, you aren't," I said.

"...America, when I was a child, there were no children without both a mother and a father; it just wasn't done. Now, he has children that were made in a laboratory, that will never age, and that will never die. The world has changed so much since I was a child," he commented.

"Even if you're an old man, I think you're the best b- friend a guy could ask for."

He looked at me in a weird way, then smiled and said, "I'm going back to Peter's room, now."

He smiled brightly and walked away, leaving me standing there, wondering what the hell I said to make him smile like that.

* * *

**A/N~ Sealand's turned into Russia... someone go find me a lead pipe to hit him with... preferably not Russia's.**

**Dialogue for England and the Vocaloids came from "Let's speak in English with Megurine Luka" and was changed slightly to fit.**

**I need people to vote on the poll, if they haven't already, and I need more people to review so that Iggy will get his memories back; It's hard writing as America and, if Iggy can't remember, I have to type as America so that you'll know what's going on!**

**Footnotes~**

***Elizabeth I, who was England's first love. She never married but (apparently) she has been quoted to have said that she was married to England.**

****Elizabeth of York, whom England fondly refers to as his mother (even he was alive long before she was)**

*****Henry Tudor, whom England refers to as his father due to the fact that Henry VII married Elizabeth of York**


	25. Just Friends

Arthur Kirkland

Montreal, Quebec

December 2, 2163

I could remember up until 1967... my memories were returning faster than anyone could've expected. I could remember how I used to feel about America... and that was exactly why I was sitting in a pub, at the bar, drinking.

I was only faintly aware of the fact that I was sitting between two of my brothers, one older and one younger. Erin and Pattie, one on either side. Erin was trying (and succeeding) to talk my ear off, while Pattie was nearly as silent as the grave which led me to believe that the both of them had been drinking for much longer than I had (at least, this evening).

I was taking my time, barely had a buzz, not even on my third pint yet. It was so far from the norm that some of the other nations were staring at me. I ignored them, thinking on what America had said... _**'**__**I**__**think you're the best **__**friend**__**a guy could ask for.' **_I remembered, _**'friend'... so, we're nothing but friends...?**_

I gave up on staying at least-partially sober and finished off my drink before ordering another... and another... and another; I lost count and by then I'd lost all self control. I sighed when I realized what a fool I was. Naught but an old fool.

_**...if I'm an old fool... he's a baby-faced git... **_I thought, laughing a bit.

My little brother was leaning on me, probably unaware of me even being there, and My older brother was apologizing, in slow steady Irish, for a lot of things, most of which I failed to remember. He was also murmuring in soft German... I would try to remember that and tell either Ludwig or Gilbert about it; possibly both.

I stood up shakily and was once again made aware of the fact that I drink too much. Distantly, I worried about how I would get back to my room.

I left the pub, anxious to get away from my eternally vexing demon. I'd lost so much ground recently... I was so close to giving the terrible habit up... but then... America.

Swaying slightly, I walked down the street, then...

I woke up in a bed, hugged uncomfortably close to another person. I squirmed a bit and could smell their breath; Chocolate and something even more sweet. I coughed, faintly aware of the other person hugging me tighter.

"Salut, Angleterre..." whispered a voice in my ear.

"D-dammit, frog, what am I doing here?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe you fell for that!" the voice laughed. I rolled over and found myself staring into a pair of indigo eyes.

"M-matthew...?" I said, shock all over my face.

"Oui, C'est moi," he said, laughing at my dumbstruck expression.

"and your breath smells like Swiss chocolate, why...?"

"I was... talking with Liechtenstein earlier and she gave me some to try..."

"Y-you really scared me..." I said, almost without thinking.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Iggy... I know, I already said it before... but I love you just as much as America does... maybe even more than he does... definitely more than Papa does..." the other nation said, smiling shyly, his (faintly glowing) eyes half covered by his dark blond hair.

I blushed, "...America doesn't love me... he said it himself... we're nothing more than friends..."

"Oh, really? It's his loss, then..." Matthew murmured, an offhand look on his face. "...England... do you... hate France? I mean... do you not trust him...? ...or just dislike him...?"

"...I don't... hate France. I... sort of trust him... but not as much as I trust my brothers. And... I don't... dislike him. I rather think he's likeable but fairly vulgar..."

"...and you love America...?"

"...yes..."

"More than you love me..." it was a statement, not a question.

"...more than my own life, Matthew..." I responded.

"...I know for a fact that he doesn't love you like I do... but I'll tell you what you should try..." Matthew said.

I stared at him.

"...Alfred is my brother; I know him better than I know myself. Al isn't an idiot like he pretends to be; unobservant, he may be, but a fool, he is not. That's the first thing to remember." I nodded to confirm that I understood. "He likes people who are out of the ordinary... for example, he prefers to talk to Goths and Nerds over Jocks and Divas. If you want his attention, be different from the norm; completely different from how you are usually. That's the second thing to remember." I nodded again. "He's loud, and you're quiet; that could prove to be a problem. Be louder and less like, well... me. That's the third and final thing to remember."

I nodded yet again, "I understand."

"...I wonder how you'll do it..."

"I do, too," I said, my expression genuinely perplexed.

"...it's too late at night for you to be thinking about this... go ahead and go back to sleep; I'll get you back to Peter's room after you fall asleep, less than two shakes of a lamb's tail."

I sighed, "...alright..." I said. I was still rather tired, and I had very little interest in discussing America.

"Bon nuit, Arthur," Matthew said, smiling softly.

~.oOo.~

I woke up feeling angry at the world and craving a smoke. Remembering (albeit, distantly) that I'd quit years ago, I set out in search of some nation that smoked and would possibly let me bum a fag. Cuba, Spain, France, Ireland, etc; not a single one.

I ran into America while on my out of the building, and he grinned. "Hey, England!" he ran up and hugged me around my shoulders.

_**Bloody Fuck! **_I thought, my eyes wide. I felt my face heat up and I had to struggle to maintain composure. **_Pull yourself together, Albion, you idiot! You're just friends; nothing more!_** "Hullo, America."

He pulled back and began to speak, "You look kinda-" I cut him off, something occurring to me just then.

"Oy, Fucktard. Can I bum a fag?"

"Eh... what?"

"You know, A 'fag'?"

"Oh! You mean a smoke! Er... I've got some, but I thought you quit a while ago... I mean, you were pressuring me to quit, an' all."

_**And never have I been so glad that you rarely if ever listen to me, **_I thought. "I need a smoke, just now... I can't explain why, but I need one."

"Um... Sure, take 'em all, I guess; I've been planning to quit for a few months, now," America took a package of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

"Thank you, America." I said, slipping the package into my back pocket.

"New clothes?"

I looked down at what I was wearing; A dark green t-shirt with black jacket, ripped black jeans, black converse. I'd thrown on whatever I could find before I left, but I didn't remember a colour scheme... I shrugged, trying to cover my confusion, "I guess."

"Cool!" He said, grinning brightly. "You look like a punk, or something! The only thing missing is dyed hair, but you look cool without it!"

_**...the yankee's geeking out on you, Albion. **_I thought, looking up into his eyes.

I started to walk away and the Wanker followed me. He went on and on about whatever it was that he was talking about, and I drew a cigarette out of the pack, snapping my fingers and lighting it with magic flames. I blew smoke in the American's face and laughed when he screwed up his eyes against the offending scent (because I felt like it).

"What the fuck, Iggy?" He demanded, his cheeks twinged with a bit of pink. "What's up with you?"

"I felt like being an asshole; do you have some kind of problem with that?" I smirked at him.

"N-no, it's just kinda weird is all... you're not normally this..." he broke off and flushed scarlet.

"'This'...?"

"...I can't think of the word..."

"...fair enough, American Idiot. I'm goin' out. Bye," I continued on and America followed me... AGAIN.

_**...if he's gonna follow you, let him, Albion. It's not like he's being annoying... **_I thought. I was getting flustered and irritated; I had no idea what to do about it... I would normally use a biting remark or some such, but I felt hurt over what he'd said two days previous.

_**...he said it himself... we're nothing but friends... and I have no reason to let him be around me if he doesn't love me...**_

I gave up on being civil. I turned and shrieked in the American's face, "GO AWAY!"

Shock showed all over his face, "W-what?"

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, YA MANKY WANKER! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? BLOODY FUCK; I UNDERSTAND CHASING SOMEONE YOU LIKE BUT I KNOW THAT YOU DON'T LIKE ME THAT WAY! SOD OFF AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!"

I ran off as fast as my legs could carry me, tears burning in my eyes; I couldn't let that Wanker see me cry. I had to get away...

...and I just hoped that he wasn't following me...

* * *

**A/N~ ...this took me quite a bit longer than expected.**

**So, we see America and that STUPID thing he said, from _England's_ POV. America should have just kept his mouth shut.**

**In response to Rawkziee's review, I'm developing my writing style to fit America, but if I could get some suggestions for how I could write better as America... that would be awesome.**

**People who review be awesome; I use your suggestions. ****People who do nothing be evil; I make you be stared at by Germany and Sweden.**

**...but still...**

**I love chu all for reading this and making me feel loved...**

**~Mini-Bonus~**

**France: Je t'aime et J'espère que vous appréciez l'histoire de Charlie~! (I love you and I hope you are enjoying Charlie's story~!)**

**Nihon: Watashi wa fūransū ni dōi suru- (I agree with France-)**

**Suisse: Homme-toi ou je vais vous battre avec mon prix de la paix! (Man up or I'll beat you with my peace prize!)**


	26. Together finally

**Disclaimer: Much as I wish it was true, it unfortunately isn't; I don't own Hetalia. I do, however, own America's glasses (My OC, Texas) and his spares, as well (My other OC, Alaska).**

Alfred F Jones

Montreal, Quebec

December 3, 2163

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, YA MANKY WANKER! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? BLOODY FUCK; I UNDERSTAND CHASING SOMEONE YOU LIKE BUT I KNOW THAT YOU DON'T LIKE ME THAT WAY! SOD OFF AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!" he shrieked, his voice shooting up an octave (or three).

I watched as he ran, almost wanting to chase after him but freaked out by his tone (I mean, really; that could've scared **BELARUS**). I sighed and began chasing him, quickly making up for lost ground as I tried to find him, which is harder than it sounds, believe it or not.

I chased after him and skidded to a stop in front of a white Victorian style house. I wondered where he'd gone for a moment until I heard something... a soft whimpering.

I looked around and spotted a bit of black peeking out of a bush in front of the house. I shifted the leaves and found England and- Were those tears in his eyes...?

...shit...

I must have messed something up... because no one else ever made him cry like that.

He looked into my eyes like he was a trapped animal; I felt like reaching out and hugging him close, but I knew that he would freak out because he couldn't remember.

"England... why are you crying...?" I asked, my voice soft.

He took a while before murmuring, "...it's none of your concern." He looked away from me.

"ENGLAND. You're my best friend; I want to know what if anything is wrong with you."

"As I said; it's none of your concern. There's nothing wrong, so screw off, wanker."

"Arthur... I want to know if you're hurting..."

"I'm **not**," England said, glaring into my eyes.

"ARTHUR KIRKLAND," I said, putting stress on the name. "You're my best friend and if you lie to me, I can't help you-"

"AND WHO SAID I WANTED HELP?" he shouted, his face red. He fought his way out of the bush (which made me wonder how he'd gotten in there in the first place) and glared at me, panting slightly. He continued to speak but more calmly, "I'm absolutely fine, America. And stop calling me 'Arthur'; you haven't earned that right."

"But, England, I-"

He cut me off, "SHUT IT!"

"Englan-"

"I TOLD YA TO SHUT YA FECKING TRAP, YANKEE!" he shouted, his normally sophisticated accent sounding sort of... off.

He left me standing there and I realized that I was never listening to him... I was always paying attention to something else when he talked to me. Whenever he tried to talk to me outside of meetings, I would say I had something else to do because I did want to endure the awkward silence that seemed to come around whenever we spoke to one another. I never read his messages; No Notes, No Emails, No Letters. I didn't answer my phone if it was him because he only ever wanted to talk about business (and I HATE talking about business). If I checked my messages and he'd left me one, I would delete it without even listening to the message.

...I was trying not to think of him...

I chased after him yet again. "England, wait!" I called.

He turned towards me, "...what is it, Yankee...?" he asked, still glaring at me but not with cold eyes... with tired eyes.

"England..." I tried to find the right words. "...do you... like me...?" _**...not smart... not suave... not funny... but very 'Alfred'... **_I thought, waiting for his answer.

"...I don't hate you... but... it's annoying when you hang around me like a love-sick schoolgirl because I know that you don't like me that way, it makes no sense and is rather a waste of time."

"...and you would know how I like you... how?"

"You told me, git!"

"What _exactly_ did I say?"

"'Even if you're an old man, I think you're the best friend a guy could ask for.'"

Internally, I was slapping my common sense across the face ('HOW DARE YOU FAIL TO DO YOUR JOB!') while, externally... "...England, that's not what I meant to say. I didn't say what I wanted to because I thought you would smack me upside the head with a tree branch or some awesome pirate shit like that."

"...if I had smacked you... it would've been with a length of drift wood, a rattan cane, a birch-rod or the Captain's Daughter-"

"How do you hit someone with a person?"

"Believe me, there **are** ways, America-" He broke off, shuddered, then continued, "Anyway, the Captain's Daughter was used on Naval Vessels."

I stared at him blankly.

"...sailing ships that have Navy men on them."

...what...?

He sighed (even I would be exasperated with me at this point), "it's those ships from which I took your men and made them part of **my** navy."

"Oh! I remember that; we created the marines in response to that!" …yeah, in case you couldn't already tell, I'm a total dunce cap.

"...It was also used on pirate ships," England said.

He slowed a bit and we walked side by side, not quite touching but almost. He seemed tense...

"America... two days ago... what was it you wanted to say...?" he was trying to get the conversation back on track, but I was hesitant to say what I had almost said.

I sighed, "...I wanted to say that you were the best boyfriend a guy could ask for... but that would've been awkward since, strictly speaking, we aren't together."

I smiled slightly as he blushed.

"What? Why are you embarrassed? It's completely true!" I said, walking beside him.

"I-I'm not embarrassed!" he said quickly.

"Then are you flattered? You're red as a tomat-"

"NEVER say that... EVER."

"...Okay..."

He was silent for a moment, "...you like me... and I don't _hate_ you..."

"...Can I call you Artie...? or maybe... Iggy...?"

"...No nicknames," he said flatly. "You can call me Arthur if you like, but I will not consent to nicknames."

"Fine... you call me Al since Arthur is the best I'm gonna get..."

"...Okay..."

"...so... are we... together?"

"We're walking side by side, you have permission to call me Arthur, I have permission to call you Al, you like me and I don't _hate_ you," he paused and took my hand, blushing a bit, "What do you think?"

"...I guess we're together...?"

"I dunno... are we?" he asked, smiling nervously.

"...We are," I said with absolute certainty.

His smile widened a bit, cheerful for once, "I'm glad, then."

**A/N~ They are finally together! However, it might end badly; if you haven't voted on the poll, please do so.**

**With the way that the poll is going (with 7 votes out of 19 people who added this to their story alert), I may just use my opinion instead of asking what you want.**

**Anyway, I'm warning you guys ahead of time that M-preg will happen in this story; if you don't like it...**

**...well, let's not get into what'll happen if you don't like it.**

**I'm already planning for summer break (even though, as I'm typing this, it's just after the end of _spring _break) and I will be updating more (even though I have summer school and driver's ed this year).**


	27. Heartbeat?

Arthur Kirkland

Liverpool, England

December 24, 2163

I scowled slightly, watching children as I walked down the street. I felt irritated, but I thought nothing of it because it wasn't as if I didn't feel like that most of the time, anyway.

The meetings were over... I was alone again.

Though, I would've been happier if I actually **was** alone; My younger sister, Northern Ireland, had come to stay at my house (_**Peter's house, **_a voice in the back of my mind murmured).

Life was hell. I could remember all the way up to when Sealand took control of the United Kingdom and I felt like crying. I was utterly depressed because of it and would snap at anyone who dared to mention that Wanker or America.

...because America could've helped me.

I heard someone calling me and I looked up... it was Northern Ireland, of course. "Brother, what are you doing out here?" I knew that she wanted to ask why I was alone when she had given orders to all of our brothers that I was not to be trusted by myself.

They knew that I remembered Sealand's takeover, but Alex (My Sister) had told me that they didn't know how much of my slavery I could remember. She said that she thought I would be depressed if I remembered everything... I wondered why.

I smiled pleasantly, "I just wanted some fresh air, Alex."

"You could've just gone out to blow a fag on the back porch like you used to. America told me that you got started smoking again-"

"...that was a one time thing, Alex. Smoking is an expensive habit and I haven't the money to spare," I noticed that my legs felt shaky. My vision was swimming and I felt like I was about to pass out.

She sighed, "Always so critical. Come on, brother, you should get home. Sealand's waiti-" I fell to the ground, unable to move.

My eyes were open but I wasn't seeing the people bustling past, going about their business; all I could see was a dark room with blood spattered walls. I couldn't hear the chatter of the townsfolk... all I could hear was grumbled curse words. I wasn't on the sidewalk by a street in Liverpool... I was at my home in London.

I curled up as small as I could and I distantly heard someone calling me. I felt someone shaking me, but I shut my eyes tight, trying not to let my tears show.

"-lex, take him home. Pattie, go get china." a voice yelled.

I could feel my body shaking; I could see what had happened that night and I was unable to stop the memories from playing over and over in my head.

Someone picked me up and I almost screamed. I wanted them gone; I didn't want to remember, anymore.

I must have lost consciousness, because I woke up in my bed at home. I felt like I wanted to die... but Nations can't die. I didn't want to be home anymore... I wanted to run away and never come back... if I was to keep on living, I felt like I **had** to leave.

I sat up in bed when I heard someone moving outside my door. After a moment there was a knock at the door. "England, can I come in...?"

_**America...? **_"...go ahead. It's not as if I actually care."

He opened the door a bit and I heard a door chain being undone. I was somewhat irritated by the fact that I was locked in my room in my own bloody house, but I ignored my irritation so that I could find out why he bothered to visit me after the meeting.

"Uh, hey, Iggy..." he said, smiling slightly.

...I glared at him, "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to know if you were okay... Alex said you passed out in the middle of the street the other day."

"I'm perfectly fine. I only passed out because I haven't been _alone_ since the end of the last World Meeting."

"...how do you pass out from that?"

"Because I actually _need_ to be alone."

He was silent for a moment then he said, "...will you tell on me if I take you out of here?"

"No... who would I tell? The Faeries are gone, My siblings had me locked in here, and I have no friends other than you."

"...fair enough," he responded, shrugging.

After that, all I can remember is him driving me to a pub, and both of us getting drunk off our asses.

When I woke up, I was back in my room and I could hear my sister yelling.

"-OU TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HIM LIKE THAT?" I'd forgotten how loud she was when she was mad. Wondering what she was talking about, I listened in.

"I didn't do anything, I swea-" a resounding slap echoed through the house and I winced a bit.

"YOU LIAR! I FOUND HIM IN A BLOODY FUCKING HOTEL ROOM, YANKEE!"

_**America...?**_

"Dammit, I swear, I did NOTHING. If something happened to him, I had nothing to do with it!" America said, his tone sounding strained.

"A LIKELY STORY!" She shrieked. She dropped her voice a bit and I crept a bit closer to the sound. "...America, I like you, you know? ...and I also know that you like him and he likes you... but he's my brother and if you hurt him, I'll kick your ass from here to kingdom come. He's very fragile, like a glass figurine... if you aren't gentle with him, he'll break."

_**...they're talking... about me...?**_

"I... I know. I'm always careful around him. He was my older brother once, and I still care about him in a brother kind of way, but he's also England... he was Britain once, he was mine once, he was strong once. He's not as strong as he'd like the rest of us to think."

"True... I can see your relationship. It has many twists and turns, your soul thread... but I can see both ends; one end is tied around your waist... and one end is tied around his neck."

I went back into my room, my emerald eyes wide as dinner plates. _**So, America is the reason that I can't seem to die...?**_

I lay on my bed for a moment, wondering how long I'd been asleep, and then I sat up, staring at the calender I had. The date said... December 31st, 2163.

_**...a week has passed?**_ I thought, still shaken up from what Alex had said, _**...it couldn't be.**_

Weeks passed without much of anything happening, and I found that... I was starting to gain weight. I had been so thin before... and then I gained the weight back... then... What...?

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, noting little things that were different... some good and some bad.

_**...my eyes are more Lime now than Emerald... **_I thought, sitting on the counter, **_...and there are dark circles under them... _**I shifted my focus from my eyes to the face around them. _**...my skin is more ruddy... but it's also softer... **_I thought, absent-mindedly laying my hand on my cheek. **_...my hair's shinier... and a bit long too... I should really get a haircut-_**

I shook my head and stared at my stomach, _**hello, what's all this then...? **_I laid my hand on it and tilted my head slightly to the side... _**a heartbeat...? **_My eyes widened, "I feel a heartbeat...?"

I slid from the counter to the ground and hurried down the stairs, quickly searching for either my phone or another nation, and praying that what I thought was going on, WASN'T going on.

* * *

_**~A/N- But, of course, we already know that it most certainly IS what he thinks it is! XD**_


	28. I love you

Alfred F Jones

Washington, DC

February 14, 2164

_**A call on valentines day... from IGGY?**_ I thought, staring at my missed calls list.

"Daddy, there's another meeting in five minutes. This one is with Russia." said a pretty blonde with deep sapphire eyes.

I sighed, almost not wanting to say no; she worked so hard so I wouldn't have to...

"Daddy?" she asked, staring into my eyes.

"'Manda, honey, I gotta go. Like NOW." I said, still looking at my phone.

"You must go to the meeting or you will have to wear the southern belle dress."

"...I'll wear it, but you have to cover for me." I said, looking away quickly.

"Okay~!"

I called my answering machine and listened to the message. 'Um... Hullo, America... I just wanted to tell you something but... if you're busy, I won't bother you. I wouldn't want to worry you with the details... but there's something terribly wrong. I've called China and he's coming over this afternoon... so, err... call me back when you get my message... okay?'

I was confused and worried about him; what if something HORRIBLE happened?

I called his cell and got the Answering Machine, then I tried his house phone... Hong Kong answered it.

"Hullo, this is the Kirkland residence, Leon speaking. Who, may I ask, is calling?" his voice was flat... as usual.

"Um... it's America. Is England there?" I said, shifting the phone to my other ear.

"Yes, he's here, but he can't answer the phone, right now. Sensei is checking him over."

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know. All I was able to get from their phone conversation was that something like this happened once before and now it's happening again."

"...you listened in on their phone convo...?"

"Yes; aren't I just horrible?"

"...yeah. Plain evil." I hung up and rushed around to get my passport; I had to see England ASAP.

~.oOo.~

I was panting and out of breath when I arrived at his house; being the idiot that I was (sometimes), I had ran from the airport to his house. I burst through the door and looked around; England with his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his slim frame, and his pants open in the front... China touching him, running his fingers over England's milk pale skin. I stared at them. And stared and stared and stared.

"W-what the fuck...?" I said, still staring.

"Th-this isn't what it looks like..." England said, flushed scarlet.

"Then tell me what it is, because I have no idea what's going on, England." I said harshly.

"I-I... I..." he started crying.

"Āěr fú léi dé, yà sè shì huáiyùn!" China shouted at me, rushing to England's side and laying his hand on England's shoulder.

"E-eh?" I looked to the source of the sound and found Hong Kong.

"What did he say?" I asked, shocked by the expression on the city's face.

"'Alfred, Arthur is pregnant...'" Leon translated, his eyes wide.

My eyes widened, "W-what the fuck...? But... England's a man... men can't get pregnant."

"That is Human men, Alfred. Nation men have no such luck... or at least some do not." China said, still trying to get England to stop crying. "...still, I never would have thought that England would be one of the few male nations that can conceive children... let alone the type that _would_."

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking from China to England and back again.

"I mean that Male Nations have to _want_ to have at least one child; they will not conceive if they do not want children." China covered England's ears, "...The only time that this ever happened was way back when Rome was still alive; Germania harbored a secret desire to have children with Rome... he conceived and, around 10 months later, he gave birth to a pair of twins, Römisches and Gilbert Beillschmidt."

"Prussia and... Who?"

"...Holy Rome, or, as you would know him, Germany."

"...but... Who's kid is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"...who knocked up England?"

"Well, the way I see it there are a few options... One: It was Sealand, which is EXTREMELY unlikely... Two: It was you, which is quite a bit more likely... or Three: He was raped AGAIN, which is possibly the most likely seeing as he is not a strong as he used to be and he is rather small for a nation his age."

"So, you're saying that you don't know."

"No, I am saying that it was either you or Sealand. Even though Rape is the most likely, you and Sealand would be the only nations that would have done it; none of the rest of us are interested in him."

"...Is it wrong that I feel like I should've taken that as an insult?"

"No, because I am trying to tell you something important, baichi."

"Which is?"

"I was... interested in England once, but he broke my heart because he was halfhearted like you are now. What I am saying is... do not let history repeat itself; I almost killed myself after he broke my heart, and he has already tried to end his **own** life."

"...and how does this pertain to me, again?"

"Baichi... England loves you; you are his-... err... how would Japan put this...? Ah, I remember. You are England's seme."

"...and a Seme is?"

"America, Do not make me give you the sex talk."

"Oh! So, the seme is the dom?" I asked, finally getting what he was trying to say.

"Yes, and he is too... um... 'Tsundere' to tell you that he loves you."

"So, he loves me...?" I noticed that England had fallen asleep... probably from boredom.

"'Love' you? **'Love' **you? America, you obviously do not understand..." I stared as he got a megaphone out of NOWHERE. "_He does not love you, he __adores__ you! He does not just want you to be around him, he wants you to fuck him until he can no longer walk! America, asking if he loves you is like asking the __sky if it is blue, like asking Poland if he has painted his house recently, like asking Germany if he is into BDSM; you never ask because you ALREADY know the answer!_"

I just stood there with my ears ringing for a moment, "Ow... that was freaking loud..."

"I am not sorry, America," China said, turning off the megaphone, "because you need to learn how to listen. I told you the same thing before. When you asked me why 'Britain' was mad at you, all those years ago, I told you, very seriously, that he loved you. You did not believe me, thus I used the megaphone to make sure you heard me this time."

"...I love him too..."

"Good. Tell him when he wakes up, but I warn you that he probably will not believe you; Sealand saw to that."

"Goddammit... Sealand, you asshole..." I said, smacking my forehead against then heel of my hand.

~.oOo.~

The next morning, after England had woken up, I tried to think of how to tell him how I felt... but I had no idea how to do it without things seeming awkward. I ended up staying at England's house...

_**...I wonder how I'm gonna tell him... **_I thought, staring off into space, not really looking at anything.

"...America?" I turned to England and he was staring at me steadily.

"Yeah? What's up, Iggy?" I responded, raising an eyebrow at him.

"...what do you like about me...?" he asked, his face showing that he was nervous.

"...I don't know. I just like you. You're smart, you're cute, you know when to stop talking," _**unlike me... **_I added, subconciously, "You eat right, you care about what we think of you and you try to change things if something goes wrong, you're a hell of a lot healthier than I am, you listen when I'm talking, you tell me if I'm an idiot; I love you **because** you're you, Iggy."

"I... I don't know what to say..."

"It's okay, Iggy," I smiled softly, almost sadly. "So, do you believe me when I say I love you?"

"To be honest... No," he said tentatively.

I struggled for the right words to say it and make him believe me, eventually settling on the subtle approach, "...Iggy, When I look at you, who do you think I see?" I asked, staring into his eyes.

"...Sealand..." he said shyly.

"'Sealand'? Really? You think that I see Sealand when I look at you?" I asked incredulously, "Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes... We look the same." I sighed as he said this.

"WRONG." I said flatly. I tried to think of a good way to phrase what I was going to say next. "When I look at you, I see your eyes that are so green that they could put an emerald to shame."

He stared at me as if He thought I was kidding, "Amer-," I cut him off.

"When I look at you, I see your skin so pale that it's almost white and so delicate that it make me want to leave hickeys ALL OVER YOU," I took care to stress the last part and smiled when I saw that he wasn't gaping in disbelief.

"America, sto-," I cut him off again.

"I see your hair so blond that it's the same color as sunlight and even BRIGHTER than that," I felt my smile soften, "I see your face, so soft and pretty that I just can't help but stare."

He looked like he was about to protest but I wouldn't let him.

"Iggy, when I look at you, I see the most GORGEOUS person I've ever met!" I shouted, almost unable to comprehend how he didn't believe me when I was telling him EXACTLY how I felt, "I see the only person in the ENTIRE WORLD that I could EVER love!" I lowered my voice and crossed the room to where he stood. "Iggy, I love you with all my soul. All my heart, my essence, my being... I love you with everything I am, everything I've ever been and everything I ever will be..." I hugged him close to my heart, "I've given you my heart, okay? Take good care of it."

* * *

**_~A/N- So, Iggy's pregnant, America went out of character because my America fails, annnnnnnnd MY CHINA DOES NOT SAY ARU (ARU)!  
Yeah, I hate it when people ask why my China doesn't say "aru"... it's because he speaks either Proper English or Chinese; there is no Japanese stereotype of Chinese people here._**

**_~dramatization~_**

**_China: But I like saying "Aru"_**

**_Me: Oh, yeah? Go find another story to say it in. That word will not be spoken around me (in my A/N) under penalty of death, kono yaro._**

**_China: Since when do you say "Kono yaro", aru?_**

**_Me: ...Charlie says "Harakiri yourself", kono yaro..._**

**_China: *stabs himself in the stomach with a katana*_**

**_Me: Now, leave it there, kono yaro; You are going to suffer a long painful death for saying that word..._**

**_-Moral: Aru is the only word I will not tolerate. I hate the word and will destroy anyone who uses it-_**

**_~end dramatization~_**

**_...NOT; _****_I may hate the word but I'd never kill someone (maybe)..._**


	29. TRIPLETS!

Arthur Kirkland

Beijing, China

March 26, 2164

_**...a plane ride. to CHINA. Of all the days... today? Really? **_I thought angrily, glaring out the plane window.

America put his hand on my shoulder, "Iggy-" he began.

"What is it, Alfred?" I snapped, turning my burning gaze on him.

"Iggy, you need to calm down. You're-" I cut him off.

"-going to hurt the baby; I know," I grumbled.

"Actually, I was going to say that you were going to break the armrest." I loosened my grip on the armrest and heard it crack. "Thanks for letting go. Anyway, why do you hate flying so much...? I mean, you have to fly to come and see me, right?"

"America, the last time I went across the ocean to see you was before planes were invented. I never went by plane; Even if I go to see one of our friends in Asian, I either go by train or I get a ride from another nation." I said, turning back to the window. I sighed and closed my eyes. "America, when is the plane supposed to land?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't notice the anxiety in my voice.

Unfortunately, the one time that I want America to not notice, he notices. "Aw, are you scared? It's okay; the plane is already on it's way down anyway." He said, patting me on the back.

"America... wh-what if there's something wrong with it...?" I asked, voicing my fears for once.

He scoffed, "Iggy," he said, leaning over the arm rest so he could see my face, "the only thing that could go wrong would be for it to die-" he clamped his hands over his mouth.

My eyes widened, "D-die...?" I asked, suddenly very worried. I think I started hyperventilating, _**What if the baby dies? **_I thought, beginning to panic.

"Iggy- Iggy, calm down." America said, grabbing hold of my shoulders, "CALM DOWN, IGGY," I look into his eyes and forced myself to calm down.

"A-alfred, what if the baby dies...?" I asked, genuinely afraid of something for the first time in my life.

"Calm down. I'm serious; if you don't calm down-" I cut him off again.

"-I'll be hurting the baby; you've said all these things so many times that I can tell what you'll say before you say it."

"I was _going_ to say that I was gonna ignore you until you slow your roll a bit," he said flatly. He looked up and said, "We're on the ground again. Look out the window... see, we're here," he tried (and failed) to get me to look out the plane window. I got up stiffly and yawned a bit.

"Come on; let's get this over with, aye?" I said, cracking my elbows and taking America's hand.

~.oOo.~

"Ah, there is a head; can you see it?" China asked, speaking English mainly for America's benefit (seeing as he and I both knew that I spoke Chinese fluently) I shivered a bit, watching the static-ridden screen. He moved the receiver for the sonogram a bit and he smiled, "A girl."

"Healthy, I hope...?" I asked, trying not to seem overly worried.

Needless to say, China saw through it, "Perfectly healthy. It is... interesting to see you concerned about something for once. You are normally so distant."

I looked away from him, "May I please leave now?" I asked flatly.

"No, England. Your ultrasound is not over yet," China said, continuing his work.

I watched the screen with a look of boredom on my face until China gave us some... interesting news.

"Nǐ yǒusān bāo tāi! Sān gè nǚhái! (You have triplets! Three girls!)" he said, enthusiastic as always.

...I must've fainted because I was awakened by water being splashed in my face. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, confused for a moment.

"Hey, China! Iggy's awake again!" I recognized the voice as America's even though I kept my eyes shut.

I sighed, _**triplets... REALLY? I probably could handle **__**one**__** baby... but **__**three**__**?**_

"Iggy, why are you crying...?" I felt America put his arm around my shoulders, "We're lucky... three little babies to call our own... It would be grea-"

I cut him off, "No, it wouldn't. America, I was a doctor once, specifically an OBGYN, but I learned something very important; the more children born at once, the more likely they are to ALL die," I opened my eyes and leaned on him, turning my eyes to China who was standing in the doorway, "Yao," I said, using his name for the first time in almost 200 years, "When am I due...?"

"Er... sometime around September 29th..." he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"...On St Michael's day?" I asked, thinking in terms of names at this point.

"Shì de...? (Yes...?)" China said, his tone lilting upwards.

"Mmm... Michaella. Yes, Michaella is a good name..." I said, thinking aloud.

_**...well... it does no good to be negative, **_I thought, smiling a bit, **_...besides, it takes more to kill a nation than it does to kill a human..._**

_**~A/N- Alright, he's reached his first trimester... and it's been revealed that there are triplets... AND THEY'RE ALL GIRLS!**_

_**...anyway, in case you wanted to know, I'm strapped for ideas and am going to be bouncing all over the place timewise. I'm telling you that there's a VERY good reason why Sealand dropped off the map... I just haven't thought of it yet (me and Rabbidfanboy are on it as I'm typing this).**_

_**Edit: I corrected some mistakes I made while I was proofreading/editing it. It's not the same as I wanted it to be in the first place, but it's damn close.**_


	30. Arthur's Birthday Part 1

_**A/N~ I am so sorry for the lack of updates; I have had so much going on recently... My grandpa died, my sister had to go to a mental health facility, my best friend is leaving, and my doctor seems to think I might be depressed. Winter break starts soon, so I'll be writing more often and I'll try to update more.**_

_**Disclaimer~ I don't own Hetalia. The only things I own are my OCs and my train of thought (neither of which are very important).**_

Peter Pendragon

London, England

April 23rd, 2164

_**Just apologize, Peter, it **__**is**__** his birthday, after all; you owe him an apology and today is the best day to give it to him,**_ I thought, hesitating before deciding to knock on the door. I hated this. He hated me again. It's like what happened with him and America the first time, only he never cared for me like he did for America. It hurt me that I had hurt him, but I needed to apologize and make him understand that _it hurt me to hurt him, because I _**love**_ him._

...I had no chance. No chance whatsoever.

He loved AMERICA not ME.

No chance.

Never any mercy for a sinner, I suppose, though.

It was my own fault for not telling him.

I may have loved him, but he never knew, because I _never told him._

It was my own fault that I became a tyrant.

It was my own fault that I had hurt him.

It was my own fault that I had no chance.

It was my own fault that I lost to America before I even started.

All because I never told him.

I heard someone moving inside, and I abruptly turned to leave; I couldn't apologize. If I tried, I would have to explain how I felt and I... I just couldn't.

I couldn't tell him.

America already had him for sure, anyway; I had already screwed up any chances I may or may not have had by doing what I had done. Overworking him- beating him- it was all a twisted way to show him that _I_ was the strong one and _I_ would take care of him; I had snapped while trying to show him that I was strong enough to have him to myself. I was such a fool.

I ran from his house as fast as I could, only aware of the soles of my shoes hitting the ground from the sound pounding in my ears. I laughed at myself inside my mind; _**You're **__**just**__** like he is!**_ a sharp bark-like sound escaped my mouth, half a laugh, half a sob, _**You love him but you won't tell him, just like how he was with America!**_

I can't tell him anything. I'm just like him.

We look the same, we talk the same, we even act the same.

We're just the same.

Always have been, always will be.

Maybe that was why he never noticed when I started pulling the tsundere act like he normally does; he's been doing it for so long that he doesn't even notice when he acts all lovey-dovey over America. He probably just saw it as me lashing out at him, finally trying to grow up.

That wasn't what it was, but he would never know.

He would never know, because I would never work up the courage to tell him.

I looked around, wondering how I had gotten to where I was. It was obviously America, seeing as the skies weren't foggy and it was warm (if not hot; bloody hell, if this wasn't hot, I didn't have any idea what hot was). Everything around was perfect, one of those neat little suburbs that I had heard about when I was younger; each house was identical to the next one and the last one.

All except for one.

I stared at the house, wondering why this house was so...

...it looked more perfect than perfect.

Like someone had put everything they had into this house.

And yet, it also looked run-down.

Like that person had died... or, that the person had nothing left to give.

"Ah... why am I thinking such dark thoughts..." I sighed.

_**Because you can't tell him how you feel. Everything seems dark if you can't make anything better.**_

~Until I Changed~

I felt stupid. Looking for someone in a house that was quite clearly empty. I could hear doxies in the back garden, which was proof that no one was living there; humans would just suddenly move out if a doxie colony moved in and Nations never let doxies have a chance to move in. There was no one here, and yet I looked anyway.

"Hello?" I called, looking around curiously, seeing numerous photos of children hanging on the walls and sitting on tabletops. Every single child had blue or green eyes, every child had dark or light blond hair. Every single one had America's smile.

I knocked one off of a counter- half by accident, half on purpose -and smirked a bit when I heard the glass of the frame shatter. Passive aggressive. I was being passive aggressive. Knocking over the likeness of the rival who won without even trying.

I laughed again, preparing to knock over another until I heard the sound of footsteps. Light footsteps, the sound of pads touching the ground. Someone walking barefoot then.

"...who's there...?" it was a familiar voice, but I couldn't tell from when. It sounded almost like a mix of America's loud and confident tone and Canada's soft and shy one; like America's only normal.

I stared when I saw the person walk out of the shadows; he looked nearly identical to America, only the sky blue eyes that England loved so much were a dull greenish brown. "Who are you and why the bloody hell do you look like America?" I shrieked.

He stared at me for a moment, then spoke softly and slowly, "I'm Will. Formerly known as Texarkana. Before that I was the Confederate States of America."

That explained why he looked so much like America; to a point he /was/ America, or at least part of him. "I'm Sealand," I noticed him looking at the photo on the ground and felt compelled to apologize for breaking it. "Ah, sorry... I accidentally broke it..."

"It's fine. She's long gone now... if I recall correctly, that one was... Sofie." He didn't look even a little upset over the broken frame, but he seemed... strange. Someone who'd been alone for too long, perhaps.

"Ah, I'll just leave, then..." I said, starting to leave.

"Wait. You're the one who took over England, right...?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"...ah... I heard about his crush on America... "

I froze here, "What about it...?"

"...he'd best be careful. America is not so innocent as he pretends to be."

A strange smile... like a rotting Jack O' Lantern.

"You should leave now... I have cleaning to do before they get here..."

I walked out of the house, more confused than I had been before I got there.

But, then, suddenly... I got it.

There were five pictures that held the same two people, one was America... and the other was this mysterious 'Will'. All five were wedding photos.

I took off running, laughing a bit at the prospect of making England hate America more than he already hated _me_.

_**A/N~ Et Voila, C'est Le Petit Confédéré. Well... kind of. He seems broken, yes? America broke him long before the start of the story, but that's a different story, with no guarantee of ever being posted.**_

_**Reviews make me type faster, so review away (flames are welcome, criticism is wanted, and motivation is needed).**_


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